


All the things that we have gained...

by DeyaniraSan



Series: All the things that we have gained; and all the pieces we have lost [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Akashi Masaomi's A+ Parenting, Akashi Seijuurou & Kuroko Tetsuya Friendship, Akashi Seijuurou & Midorima Shintarou Friendship, Akashi Seijuurou-centric later on, Angst, Aomine Daiki & Momoi Satsuki Friendship, Aomine is the friend everyone deserves, BAMF Momoi Satsuki, Basically the Teiko Era story retelling I think this fandom deserves, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, GoM are a bunch of dorks, Haizaki can only be confused or sly, Kuroko Tetsuya & Aomine Daiki Friendship, Kuroko Tetsuya-centric, Mental Health Issues, Murasakibara is a big teddy bear, Nijimura deserves a break best senpai ever tho, Strangers to Friends, Teikou Era, sassy!Kuroko
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2018-12-14 03:38:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 36,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11774697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeyaniraSan/pseuds/DeyaniraSan
Summary: Joining Teiko Middle School had been a challenge on its own. Adapting to the life of the prestigious institution while also developing his own basketball style was new hardship Kuroko Tetsuya had never expected to be so daunting.Creating lasting friendships on the way was a thing Kuroko Tetsuya had not anticipated at all.Akashi was the responsible heir of one of the most prestigious Japanese companies. Perfection came as a natural demand out of him. Success was an ordinary goal.Letting Kuroko Tetsuya see through the cracks of his absolute self had not been a part of any of his plans.





	1. Lesser Victories and Surprising Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! As it should be obvious, this will be a retelling in detail of the events in Teiko, since I have not seen many people going into much detail about what happened with the rise and fall of the Generation of Miracles. This is purely my own subjective take on the matter, and further tags will be added as we progress. At the same time, some scenes might seem abrupt since I am not going to rewrite the parts that have already been presented in the anime, unless there is a plot based element I want to expand on. Thank you for clicking, and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> I also hope my friend @Niahara_Erskine who has pestered me continuously to post this is happy and having a jolly time. All this is on her.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And… who are you?” Tetsuya asked innocently, as he continued eating his meal, his eyes unmoving from fiery red as he asked his question. 
> 
> “You really don’t know?” he asked, and this time Tetsuya was sure he wasn’t imaging the slight amusement coating his words, red eyes gleaming fiercely in both mirth and curiosity.   
> “Should I?” Tetsuya asked in the same neutral tone, not giving away the surprising delight he felt at returning the previous tease back, even as Aomine choked on his drink at the implication that someone wouldn’t know who Akashi was.
> 
> “Of course, I am Akashi Seijuurou.”

Akashi Seijuurou was an enigma wrapped in mystery.

Those had been Tetsuya’s first thoughts about the other as they had met in the reverberating quiet of the solitary third gym with only Aomine’s shouts and Midorima’s clipped responses to break the silence. But as Tetsuya made eye contact with the redhead, it seemed the world had been muffled in tranquil curiosity as Tetsuya realised two things at once: that his own curiosity was reflected back at him through cracks of unmitigated lies, spider web like breaks, too fine to be seen by most people, and that two, Akashi Seijuurou was a very intriguing person he could not but feel compelled to want to figure out; an adversary posing a challenge.

He didn’t expect more to come out of it, and he certainly didn’t expect the other to spare him a second glance. _Yet, he did._ And as Akashi analysed his basketball skill, Tesuya’s eyes kept glancing towards the other in shy, probing glimpses.

In the end, Akashi’s parting words left Kuroko with more things to wonder about than basketball, shadows crawling timidly over the moonlit interior of the gym, as fragmented thoughts reeled through his mind, and he couldn’t help to ponder… Just who really was interested in whom?

He decided it didn’t matter in the end; it was not like he would ever get close enough to find out more about the compelling person barely containing a quiet storm that Akashi Seijuurou was. So, as he left that afternoon with Aomine, he decided to forget the odd feeling of curiosity, of thinking there was _more_ to this person he had just met, and instead concentrate on the advice he had been given.

After all, there was no way their paths would cross ever again in the near future…

* * *

…that had been what Tetsuya had thought the day before, but in his defence, he would have never imagined he would find himself in this improbable position the very next day.

It had been a while since he had started training with Aomine, their meetings a kind warmth shared in the time after classes born out of a mutual love for basket. Yet, neither had to mention that their training sessions were just that; not that Aomine was a snob by any means. If we were asked, Tetsuya would have said that Aomine was one of the most honest and down to earth people he had ever come across, uncaring of status or fame; he _was_ Tetsuya’s friend and had been from the moment he had learnt about their shared love for the sport.

Yet, in Teiko not all things were as expected, and whether he wanted it or not, Tetsuya was very aware that Aomine was a first string member in their prestigious basketball team. So, unwillingly and unknowingly he refrained from ever bothering his new friend at any time during classes time, bowing his head to the unsaid status the other boy had. Tetsuya knew that Aomine would never mistreat him or ignore him or _scorn_ at him were he to search for his company thereafter their more or less scheduled meetings after school. And despite this knowledge, he never came to try to break his self-imposed isolation in their relationship, leaving it to Aomine to break it as he wished, being in different class a perfect cover and excuse for Tetsuya to put a mental stop to his witless longing to interact more with his new friend.

So, it came as no surprise that Aomine was the one to break Tetsuya’s voluntary solitude with a carefree smile and careless attitude.

The next day Tetsuya walked into their mess hall not expecting anything at all besides finding a place to sit when most people weren’t able to even _see_ him. The least he expected was for someone to shout his name from across the room, half of the school turning to see who the rising darker boy was yelling for, before waving for good measure, just in case the scream of one of the tallest person in the room wasn’t enough for Tetsuya to spot him.

Tetsuya froze, because this was unexpected, which gave time for Aomine to get up and walk – or jog towards him, as if the frozen boy seemed in a hurry to go anywhere – a grin still on his face.

“Oi, Tetsu,” Aomine - who was still yelling Tetsuya observed and cringed - said as he reached him, “oh man you’re here, I almost thought I’d missed you.”

Despite the oddness of the situation Tetsuya didn’t show his inner surprise – or more accurately shock – and hoped Aomine wouldn’t take it personally if he tried to make a run for it. Still, he answered, “I always come inside to take my lunches Aomine-kun,” not wanting to be impolite.

Aomine, though, seemed undeterred in his trial to make the whole cafeteria look at them as he exclaimed, “Woah, seriously. Ah, I thought you never eat or something. I looked out for you most days but I could never catch sight of you.”

Tetsuya felt a warm rush of appreciation and gratitude towards the other hearing this, all entwined with a deeper sense of surprise at the unexpected admission. Of course, earnest Aomine didn’t seem to find anything wrong or sudden with his blunt statement, honest with his feelings and intentions in a way that still seemed to catch Tetsuya off guard in the same way his presence seemed too sudden for others. And perhaps in that moment, Tetsuya felt like a fool for never approaching Aomine earlier, the single one best friend he had made since starting to attend Teiko.

“Thank you, Aomine-kun,” Tetsuya answered, his eyes on his plate, as his hands gripped it a bit tighter, feeling as if he should find some words – _better words_ – to express the immense gratitude he felt right then, but knowing he was unable to. “I really appreciate the thought, but most days I sit alone towards the back since most tables are taken by the time I come.” Not to say that Tetsuya, when not in a group of people, tended to be overlooked to the extreme that other people seemed to think no one was using his table. After a few… unfortunate incidents he had decided to come towards the end of the break when most people were finished, even as he had less time to eat.

“Wait,” Aomine interrupted, his grin falling into a frown, “Tetsu, are you telling me you have been having your meals alone since the beginning of the school year?” he asked slowly.

“Well… yes?” Tetsuya confirmed the tinniest bit of confusion leaking into his voice. It wasn’t unusual for him. He didn’t have any good friends in his class, and most times he was forgotten when people decided to go and take their meal.

“Oh, man, this is unbelievable,” Aomine exclaimed further adding to Tetsuya’s confusion. “That’s it I should’ve done this sooner.”

“Done what sooner?” Tetsuya asked, and he couldn’t really be blamed for the clipped strain in his voice, already expecting something unbelievably improbable or ultimately stupid to come out of Aomine’s mouth.

“You’re gonna sit with us,” the other replied casually, and without any further ado he grabbed Tetsuya’s hand already dragging him towards a table in the middle of the cafeteria. By the time he realised what had happened a few deadly seconds had passed, and Tetsuya realised he should be fighting if he were to prevent this dooming fate from taking place.

“Aomine-kun!” he yelled, or tried to, because it came out more as an annoyed whisper, as he tried to fight the other teen off. His efforts clearly didn’t affect the bigger of the two as he continued to drag Tetsuya to the table most of the Teiko first string were having their lunch.

“Aomine-kun!” he tried again, before finally wrenching his arm free from the other’s grip. “Could you stop for a second!?”

“Hmm? What is it?” Aomine asked, finally turning to face Tetsuya.

“What are you doing?!” he hissed.

“Taking you to have lunch?” Aomine asked as if Tetsuya was being intentionally difficult. Again, Testuya found himself put off by the blunt honesty of the other as he flailed mentally to give a reason why this was an impossible idea.

“I can’t do that!” he finally exclaimed after a second of fruitless mind acrobatics.

“And why the hell not?” Aomine asked, his face clearly showing confusion and just the tiny bit of upset. “Don’t you want to sit with me?”

Tetsuya had to take in a deep breath while closing his eyes to remind himself that even if the image was highly alike, Aomine _was not_ a kicked puppy, and he would not give in to that look.

“It’s not about that. Of course I want to sit with Aomine-kun…,” Tetsuya started, but he didn’t know how to exactly finish that sentence in the end, the unsaid intricacies of social standing in Teiko clearly a foreign concept for Aomine. Yet, Aomine caught on his furtive glance towards their table, and for once he actually seemed to use his brain and think.

“Oh? You afraid of the big guys. What’s this Tetsu, didn’t take you for a shy one,” he said laughing.

“I am not _shy,”_ he immediately responded trying not to point out that at least one person at that table was by no means _big_ but actually close to his own height, and if asked he would deny that he was sulking. “I simply don’t think it would be appropriate for a stranger to suddenly sit with the famous first string.” He really hoped the unsaid words – someone like me – weren’t ringing as hollowly for Aomine as it were for him.

“What? Famous?! What even, Tetsu. We aren’t that famous-”

“I would digress. And so would most people in this school-”

“…and, anyway you’ve almost met everyone yesterday it’s not a big deal. And I obviously can’t let a friend sit alone for lunch,” Aomine added, and the kind light shining in his eyes was what made Tetsuya follow him meekly in the end, plate clutched between his hands and chest warm with unwilling gratitude.

Still, that didn’t stop him from regretting his decision almost 3 seconds since he reached the table, and suddenly he was under the direct scrutiny of the whole Teiko basketball first string team.

Aomine wasn’t much help since he only said, “Yo, this is my friend Tetsu I said I will bring over,” before sitting himself at the table, already shovelling down food as if a sudden storage had been announced and this was his last wholesome meal. In the absence of having something to do, after hesitating for a few seconds enough to mutter a greeting that seemed too subdued even to him, Tetsuya stood stifly to the side still unsure if he was allowed to sit down at a table of an obvious exclusive group, trying to pretend that the odd looks and the feeling of hostility were all in his head.

As he stood there, his eyes scanned over the table briefly, a small gesture he was used to doing inconspicuously to learn more about the people around him, when blue met piercing red. Tetsuya really did his best not to jolt away, his gaze meeting Akashi’s direct study of him, but even as he looked away, he knew the other kept watching him, his enquiring look an open challenge of curiosity.

“What is the meaning of this Aomine?” a voice asked, and Tetsuya was once again jolted from his thoughts, at the same time as Aomine said, “C’mon Testu, sit down don’t be shy,” the result being a very awkward atmosphere of open conflict.

“Uh,” was all he got in to say before the voice – belonging to a green haired boy he had also met the previous day that was currently caressing a rubik cube with tapped fingers in obvious annoyance– continued its questioning.

“Who is this person and why did you bring them to sit with us?” And maybe Tetsuya wasn’t a famous first string player or a prodigy, but the obvious disregard and general rudeness towards his person made his blood itch with an unfamiliar frustration.

“Kuroko Tetsuya,” he cut in impassive voice before Aomine could respond. “I think we met yesterday, nice to meet you all,” he added in a polite tone, his eyes sweeping over his table, experience keeping the irritation out of his voice. Yet, as his gaze met Akashi’s, he suddenly had the feel the other saw right through him, curiosity – and perhaps amusement? – lingering in his gaze, as he arched one eyebrow at his words. That… was certainly a new feeling, as most people could never perceive the small nuance of emotion in his monotonous voice, and the awkwardness of being caught with a rude attitude towards someone else made Tetsuya even more willing to run away from the table, shuffling in indecision.

“Well, yeah, he’s Tetsu, you met him yesterday Midorima,” Aomine added, turning halfway and motioning for Tetsuya to sit himself down.

“I know him, I am asking _why_ you are inviting him to sit with us?” At his question the atmosphere turned heavier, and everyone seemed tenser, besides the purple haired boy that was clearly more interested in munching away at his bag of chips. “We usually sit together for a reason.”

“Yeah, but Tetsu was having his meal alone. I couldn’t just leave him to it!” Tetsuya almost groaned at Aomine’s unnecessary honesty, the look of unfazed irritation on Midorima’s face clearly saying he wasn’t impressed with Aomine’s generosity.

“So, what has that to do with us?”

“Well I couldn’t just leave him to it?!”

“This is supposed to be some unnecessary _bonding_ time for the team,” and the way he said the word bonding seemed closer to spitting out homicidal charges.

“Well, lunch break is clearly ending, and we always have enough space at our table! What’s it to you, we’ve all met yesterday, did Oha-kasa give you a bad ranking, jeez.”

“Oha-asa, you imbecile. And cancer is the seventh today, but this has nothing to do…”

“Aomine-kun, it’s fine,” Tetsuya cut in before this would obviously degenerate in an even bigger argument. If he were honest, the other’s hostility had already convinced him that it was better to go sit somewhere else, and he didn’t want to prove more trouble for his friend. And Aomine was right; the lunch break wasn’t going to last an eternity, he perhaps wished to eat something in the remaining time. “It’s not a big deal, I told you I can stay somewhere else.”

“But Tetsu, don’t let Midorima’s stuck ass make you go away!”

“What are you saying in such a crass language?” the other asked, and if he were in any other position, Tetsuya would’ve laughed at the way Midorima was ready to throw his cube at Aomine’s head.

“Honestly, it’s fine,” he said with a placating smile ready to turn and leave despite all of Aomine’s pleading, when a new voice stopped him.

“No, it shouldn’t be a problem. You can sit here.”

Tetsuya knew exactly who had spoken even before he faced Akashi, startled blue meeting self-assured red, barely taking into account how the other two had fallen silent, everyone staring in different degrees of surprise at the redhead. Even the purple haired boy had stopped munching on his 3rd bag of chips for a second. The words were so sudden that Tetsuya didn’t know what to say for a few seconds, before remembering the situation.

“No, honestly, I told Aomine-kun this would be too much trouble…,” he started once more before he was cut off swiftly.

“The cafeteria is still full. And Aomine was right, there isn’t a lot of time left,” Akashi stated simply, and even as the words were simple they held a lingering touch of confidence that made them seem more forceful even as the other was watching Tetsuya with amused, kind eyes. “Plus, it is indeed quite lonesome to eat your meals alone,” he added, and it took Tetsuya a few seconds to register the glimmer in those red eyes, as well as the slight curve of his mouth to realise the last comment was Akashi _teasing_ him. With that realisation his mind stopped, unable to comprehend this sudden, odd scenario, and the purple haired boy was what made him snap out of trying to find an answer to that friendly jibe.

“Aka-chin is right,” he grit out as he opened another bag his attention obviously on the treats. “This is giving me headaches. Kuro-chin should just sit down.”

Not having time to adapt to the new nickname, Tetsuya sat down more out of inertia as Aomine grabbed his hand and dragged him in the chair next to him. Honestly, his appetite was lost considering this confusing turn of events. He was sitting at the same table with the first string basketball players.

“Aren’t you going to eat,” Akashi added, and Tetsuya wondered if he was imaging the amused lint to his words as he opened his meal.

“I am. Thank you for having me,” he added before taking his first bite. As he munched he heard Midorima sigh before he was addressed was once more.

“Forgive my earlier rudeness. I don’t think we had had time to introduce ourselves. I am Midorima Shintarou. Excuse my words, but I had been led to assume that this was a team building activity, and usually _exclusive_ ,” he explained simply before sharing a look with Akashi which Tetsuya simply ignored. In response, he nodded kindly towards the other.

“I understand. Personally, I have told Aomine-kun the same.”

“You totally have not,” Aomine added with his mouth fool.

“Maybe because Aomine-kun doesn’t make a habit of understanding what he is told,” Tetsuya added simply, and unwillingly he shared a look with Midorima at the other’s immediate denial, both of them feeling a sense of kinship through having to deal with Aomine for long periods of time.

“’m Murasakibara Atsushi,” the purple haired boy introduced himself. “Take my sweets away and I’ll crush you.” Honestly confused whether the other was serious or not, Tetsuya just nodded, with a small promise of not attempting to do so. As a few seconds passed and the fourth person at their table didn’t introduce himselves, Tetsuya made eye contact with Akashi, the other’s carrying confidence and just a tiny bit of a challenge. His attitude wasn’t unwarranted; it was unheard of not knowing who Akashi Seijuurou was, and yet Tetsuya felt himself unusually bold and daring, wanting to accept the other’s challenge.

“And… who are you?” Tetsuya asked innocently, as he continued eating his meal, his eyes unmoving from fiery red as he asked his question. The pause in their conversation was once again poignant, Midorima and Aomine looking at him in bafflement, but Tetsuya’s attention was fixed on the boy sitting across from him. Akashi raised his eyebrows, his chin resting casually in the palm of his hand as he gazed back at him.

“You really don’t know?” he asked, and this time Tetsuya was sure he wasn’t imaging the slight amusement coating his words, red eyes gleaming fiercely in both mirth and curiosity.

“Should I?” Tetsuya asked in the same neutral tone, not giving away the surprising delight he felt at returning the previous tease back, even as Aomine choked on his drink at the implication that someone wouldn’t know who Akashi was. “I mean yes, you had helped me yesterday, but I don’t think I had had the chance yet to thank you for it,” he added as an afterthought, “but you had never mentioned your name.”

Akashi looked at him for a few seconds, an indecipherable look in his eyes underlying his surprise, a feeling Kuroko had barely glimpsed at the previous night in the other, the kind of depth he questioned and uncharacteristically wished to know more about, a glimpse of more just barely adding a layer over the boy everyone knew about. Akashi only tapped two of his fingers thoughtfully over his cheek, before straightening, and giving Tetsuya an honest smile.

“Of course, I am Akashi Seijuurou.”

* * *

The rest of their lunch was spent in shoddy equivalent of content silence, if by silence one would understand Aomine and Midorima continuously bickering – Aomine denying that the word electrode existed somehow ending up as a personal offence for the green haired teen – and Murasakibara at some point exhausting his seemingly endless supply of food resulted in Akashi reluctantly borrowing money for the other boy with an amused shake of head so he could buy… the whole cafeteria Kuroko supposed.

The whole affair was a whirlwind of organised chaos that left Kuroko reeling all the way into the afternoon, his mind whirring with a distant buzz of surprise and bewilderment, as this had been the last thing he would’ve imagined about interacting with the infamous Teiko first string.

Another surprise came in the form of Aomine apologising to him later in their usual training session after school, his voice meek in unusual sheepiness, his hand awkwardly fidgeting with the short ends of his hair behind his back.

“Yo, Tetsu,” he began and his voice aimed for casualness, even as it betrayed his nervousness, “sorry if I really forced you to sit with us,” he apologised, and it was surprising, because they had been friends for a little while but it felt like so much longer had passed, enough for Tetsuya to know that Aomine would not normally apologise.

“I didn’t think Aomine-kun is able to think so deeply about things like this,” he responded after a pause, his eyes set on the ball that missed the hoop again, not giving infliction in his voice to denote his surprise. “He usually sets his goals far ahead and just goes after them without questioning the bystanders,” he continued kindly, and his words are a bit harsh, but his eyes are soft as the dawn sky meets the midnight blue of Aomine’s eyes filled with uncharacteristic regret.

Aomine flinched, but it wasn’t a real offence; Tetsuya could already see him relaxing. “Rude, Tetsu. Are you saying I am uncaring?”

“I am saying I have always admired Aomine-kun’s determination,” he corrected idly, his hands fidgeting thoughtfully over the worn but soft leather of the basketball he picked up. “Aomine-kun… always says and does things that for me at that moment seem impossible to even think about. And never fears his wishes. I may be presumptuous, but I think that this is his strength, and I do appreciate it… Even as it creates problems for everyone else,” he chided in a tease after a small pause, a small smile breaking at the other’s immediate indignant response.

“No, I didn’t hate it today,” he responded in the end as their conversation lulled in the comfortable silence created by honesty and familiarity. “But it wasn’t my place to sit with you,” he continued in an unusual display of undiluted honesty.

“That’s bullshit, Tetsu. There is nothing special about us, and no reason you cannot sit with us. You _are_ my friend.”

Tetsuya didn’t answer as he tried again to shoot for the hoop, his unsaid disagreement making Aomine clench his fists hopelessly at Tetsuya’s quiet stubbornness, not understanding, unable to imagine something that seemed so simple to him. Tetsuya envied that too, his simplicity; Aomine was the bright morning light, strong and unaffected by the turning of time as the night was shunned to recede in front of such brightness. He simply was; and the things he adored simply existed for him to try and grab, unsmothered by doubts.

“Hey, Testu,” Aomine asked as he caught his deflected throw, his hands already turning the rebound into a perfect throw. “What do you truly wish for?”

Tetsuya was stopped and pondered the oddness of the question, especially coming from Aomine. What he truly wanted…

“Hmm… Perhaps I will know one day myself,” he muttered, and as Aomine stopped and stared at him, only then did Tetsuya realise the oddity of what he said. The answer in the end was simple.

“That is a stupid question, Aomine-kun,” he added, changing his words just as the ball rolled towards him ready to be thrown again. “I just want to play basketball.”

* * *

At some point in time, Tetsuya would wonder why he hadn’t gotten accustomed to being constantly surprised for his first months of middle school. Alas, as it was, the following day Tetsuya found himself in another improbable situation.

This time he barely had time to enter the cafeteria properly, before Aomine just started dragging him towards the first string’s table. For the briefest second Testuya considered fighting his fate, but then, that would also include the probability of spilling his just acquired vanilla milkshake. Oh, the temptation…

As they crossed the middle point towards the table, he just gave up with a sigh, mentally preparing for another weird experience. Aomine for his benefit looked slightly apologetic as he forcefully shoved Tetsuya in a chair, before taking his own seat across the table next to Midorima, using him as a buffer for Akashi. Tetsuya mentally counted to ten and after a deep sigh, he felt the tension in his body leave along with the slightly murderous instinct.

As he opened his bento, he made eye contact with Akashi, which this day was seating just across him, his red eyes sparkling with mirth and barely suppressed amusement. Testuya raised a questioning eyebrow at the other, taking a bite of his food.

“I see you’re joining us again today,” Akashi commented lightly, but there was no hiding his amusement.

“Clearly, not willingly,” Midorima answered in a clipped tone, not looking up from his own food.

“Shut up, Midorima. Jeez, it’s not like he suddenly materialised some friends to sit with. And we have plenty of space,” Aomine growled between bites of rice, clearly torn between giving a comeback and absorbing his meal through osmosis as fast as possible.

Tetsuya felt his cheek burn with embarrassment, even as he couldn’t deny the other’s very blunt but true affirmation. Perhaps he wasn’t overflowing with friends, but that didn’t mean he was lonely or a charity case, and he couldn’t help the small tinge of irritation from colouring his words.

“Well, I felt like Aomine-kun would feel lonely,” he said casually. “Since not many people can lower their intelligence levels enough to communicate with him properly most times,” he said before slurping away at his milkshake, his eyes set on Aomine, telling enough about what he thought of his previous comment.

His words were met with a momentary stunned silence, before Akashi laughed, and the sound was so unexpected Tetsuya was distracted from his momentary anger. Even Midorima coughed away in what sounded suspiciously like covering a laugh, his hand playing with an hourglass.

“Ohhh, but Kuro-chin is right,” Murasakibara conceded his hands already starting to open his second bento.

“Oi, Testu!” Aomine exclaimed most enraged, but Tetsuya only turned to the right, shamelessly making eye contact. Aomine just sighed in defeat before slumping in his chair. “Fine,” he admitted, “I deserved that one.”

“I might choose to spend my lunch breaks alone, but that does not mean it is because I lack company. I never insisted on sitting here Aomine-kun, and if it is a problem I could always sit anywhere else.”

“I have told you yesterday, it is no problem,” Akashi intervened, his voice calm and soothing directing Tetsuya’s attention towards him.

“Akashi-kun is too kind,” Testuya thanked the other. “I appreciate this, even if I am not a member of the first string and intruding into your… bonding time.”

“Tis fine, Tetsu,” Aomine answered between bites of food, not even wasting energy to look at blue haired boy. “In no time you will get to the first string anyway and then it won’t be intruding anymore!” he added carelessly, honesty and confidence overflowing in a soft touch through his words.

The pause that followed his words was more than awkward, and for Tetsuya it was more than obvious that not any of the other people at the table shared Aomine’s overflowing confidence, including himself. And yet, he couldn’t stop feeling so very grateful, even as the words bounced over his mind like rejected puzzle pieces unfit to come together for him to see the image Aomine was so clearly believing in. Because as it was, he knew the song of his own helplessness ringing through his veins in a resounding pain, he knew the limits of his body, feebly giving in to the smallest challenge. And it was unfair - and he knew it too as he gripped his chopsticks harder in his hand at the same time hoping his face not to show how much it pained him – to hear Aomine believe in him like this.

Unfair, yet so warm in a small caress of hope and gratitude he knew he shouldn’t be receiving from the other so freely, undeserved kindness that was so at odds with the reality.

Midorima huffed at Aomine’s words, but said nothing. Yet, even so, his green eyes were far too piercing when they met Tetsuya’s, cold logic reflected back at him disapproving the darker haired boy’s at his side pleasant feelings. Tetsuya couldn’t find any fault in that; he himself agreed with this.

And then there was Akashi. His eyes were neither condemning nor hopeful, full of trust or encouragement. They were waiting, and as Tetsuya unwillingly met the other’s gaze, he felt as if he had done himself a great disservice, his shackles rising as he felt exactly what the other expressed through just one challenging look.

 _Expectancy_.

‘ _I had given you the advice you seek_ ,’ he seemed to say, awaiting and demanding in one look.

‘ _I know, and I am working on it_ ,’ Tetsuya frowned just as his fingers tingled with the slightest bit of anticipation, his mind remembering the fluttering touch of pages, revisiting fragments of words, still barely forming the shape of an idea.

Akashi didn’t answer, only breaking eye contact to return to his meal, but Tetsuya felt his silence even more daunting, his body rigid with a tension he couldn’t really explain, a desire to take the other’s arrogant words, burn and scatter them into wind, before rebuilding them into something more.

It was shocking for Testuya to realise that for the first time since the beginning of the school year he wasn’t looking at basketball as a dreadful challenge.

How odd.

‘ _Good_ ,’ his silenced words seemed to ring, and Tetsuya felt as if there was a bet being laid down.

“Ah, but Kuro-chin is very small. Can he really play basketball?” Murasakibara shattered the awkward silence with his odd obliviousness to the atmosphere, seemingly more interested in his meal than the conversation.

“Kuro-chin?” Tetsuya couldn’t help but ask, as it was the third time he was called this.

“Murasakibara calls the people he considers friends his own nicknames,” Midorima explained.

“It is because everyone has names that are far too complicated. It’s just… such a drag,” the boy on Kuroko’s right side answered, lulling in the last word with a yawn. “It takes so much time to say them.”

And Tetsuya was rendered speechless, because even as the other called him small, an adjective he would normally grace with a fitting reply to anyone else for the effort, his mind screeched to a halt at hearing the unexpected notion of friendship, as he had never thought to expect in association with someone else besides Aomine until now.

“Friend?” he bits out, and it is small, a mistake born out of surprise, but he couldn’t stop it.

“Well, Kuro-chin is Kuro-chin, and he is Mine-chin’s friend. So, Kuro-chin is also my friend. Also Kuro-chin also smells sweet like vanilla all the time, so I know he must be a good person. Makes me want to crush him,” Murasakibara explained slowly between bites of vinegar chips, his tone assured and bored as if he was a sharing a very obvious and complicated fact.

“Murasakibara, you can’t just go around telling people they are your friends after just a day,” Midorima suddenly exclaimed, self-righteousness tinged with worry coating his words in something akin to an angered tone.

“Eh? But Kuro-chin is Mine-chin’s friend. And they’ve known each other for longer than a day,” Murasakibara plainly shut the other down, his head cocking to the side in obvious confusion.

The two continue bickering, Midorima launching in a speech - about some sort of safety precautions and choosing the crowd to hang with Tetsuya presumed as he was not really paying attention anymore - making him sound like some sort of overbearing mom, as Aomine’s laugh echoed boisterously over their table in obvious happiness. Not knowing how to react, Tetsuya looked around meeting Akashi’s wry smile and expecting eyes, realising he could not explain exactly what he felt in that particular moment. Happy? Grateful? Gleeful? Confused?

He supposed it didn’t really matter, his emotions running rampant indecisively, unanswered questions not carrying any more significance in his head anymore. Because he was warm, basking in a feeling of contentedness, he didn’t expect to feel – in this place, in this context, with _these_ people – Murasakibara’s kind words repeating itself in his head, a loop of disbelief following his easy acceptance.

Without wanting too, his face stretched in a shy smile, a shadow of the joy he was experiencing, as if he wasn’t sure yet such a display was appropriate, just as he turned back to his meal.

In the end, he decided to forgive Aomine dragging him to their table that day too.

 


	2. Perplexing Truths and Challenging Oddities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midorima didn’t say anything as the other boy spoke, letting Seijuurou finish his jumbled explanation. His face didn’t betray his emotions per se, but it was no secret for the redhead that his friend was severely disappointed with his lacklustre explanation. For a second only the quiet whisper of the evening breeze could be heard in between the two boys, the silence disturbed by the pensive murmur of the leaves outside bending shyly to the wind caress. As the last rays of dusk were giving away to petrol skies inked softly with flimsy swipes of pink, Midorima spoke honestly.

“How do you normally spend your lunch breaks?”

Tetsuya looked up at the sudden question, almost dropping the piece of rolled egg between his chopsticks. Akashi only scrutinised him once pensively from his side, before continuing to eat his meal casually, almost making Tetsuya wonder if he had imagined the question, and if it would be rude not to answer.

“Pardon?” Tetsuya tried, unsure if he hoped the other mysterious teen had really addressed him or not.

“I asked how do you usually spend your lunch breaks, Kuroko,” Akashi answered swiftly, and Kuroko was shocked to hear the other use his name. It was the first time Akashi had said his name, and it made Tetsuya feel odd and disconcerted, as if an unexpected tug at the very core of his being left behind an unnamed sentiment like a whispering caress passing over his skin.

Tetsuya had learned a few things in the few days he had been dining with the first string, one of them being that his initial assessment of the other boy was a vague understatement.

Akashi was charismatic, a magnetic force as his strong presence lingered behind his every word and gesture, in a way that seemed to single him out from anyone else Tetsuya had ever met before. Akashi Seijuurou by all means rose and met the perfect image Tetsuya had already formed of him as student council vice-president as a first year, a Teiko First String Basketball player, as well as a rumoured perfect student.

Akashi Seijuurou seemed to meet all the standards someone would ever expect of him with a gracious smile and kinder words. If he were honest, Tetsuya would admit he felt just the tinniest bit of annoyance at how perfect the other was, if only it weren’t for the other thing Tetsuya had noticed.

Akashi was also inscrutable, an enigma written in an unknown language he could just not grasp the meaning off, hidden behind casual smiles and alluring words, saying everything without saying anything at all. Midorima was an intelligent boy, ambitious and just slightly insecure, hardworking and earnest to do everything in his power to reach his goals. Aomine was his friend, a wild spirit ruled by his own freedom and whims, passion burning through his veins, coating his breaths in the radiance of his unbreakable will. Murasakibara was a kind soul, a façade of apathy hiding his fire, boredom coating an undiluted enthusiasm to find a challenge for more, tinged with loyalty and kinship towards whatever possessions he regarded as his, including his friends.

It had been a few days since Tetsuya had started sharing their table at the end of the week, a barely reluctant sigh leaving his lips as his steps traced a known route, barely bidden by a look and a hand gesture from an ecstatic Aomine, an unwilling habit having already formed. And Tetsuya was everything but arrogant and he knew he could not judge the nature of someone from just a few quiet interactions in the act of sharing a meal, but…

But Akashi was making Tetsuya wonder just who the other boy was, skilled in everything, charming and obviously knowledgeable in more ways than one, yet so subtlety dishonest, a blank wall making Tetsuya unable to grasp a hold of the other’s personality.

Or that’s what he told himself – perhaps as a self-indulgent wish or a subjective dillusion – since he simply could not come to agree that there was in existence a person as seemingly perfect as Akashi Seijuurou.

“I usually read,” he answered looking at his meal thoughtfully, memories of quiet lunches filled with the distant buzz of conversations he was not part off and a flurry of pages seemingly so far away already. The chaos of the first string seemed to further crumble away at his ideas of normality and routine the longer he sat with them, as they seemed to carve up uninvited a place in his life he wasn’t aware of having left blank until then.                                  

“Hmm, interesting. Though, I don’t it surprises me that Kuroko is an intellectual type,” Akashi teased between bites.

“Oh? Does Akashi-kun usually categorise people into types?” Tetsuya asked both curious and reproachful. Akashi only hummed pensivelly before responding.

“In a way. But that would be an incorrect thing to say, or perhaps incomplete. Doing that would simply limit one’s perception over the people around them, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked, as he glanced from the corner of his eye at Tetsuya catching his gaze with a knowing look, and Tetsuya realised that perhaps Akashi was most times more aware of his presence than his lack of thereof. “Is it such a bad thing to say that I expected Kuroko to like books?” Akashi asked aloud, and Tetsuya turned sideways to look at him, confirming his assumption that the other was teasing him.

“Tis means Akashi thinks you’re smart Tetsu,” Aomine muttered from across Tetsuya, and he briefly wondered if his friend wanted to challenge Murasakibara with the way he seemed to vacuum away his food.

“Well, I guess this is a compliment I must cherish coming from Akashi-sama,” Tetsuya intoned sarcastically in a deadpan voice, momentarily stunning Akashi. If he weren’t watching the other boy attentively, Tetsuya might’ve missed the small pause the other did as he heard his words, before chuckling.

“’Sama’? I thought Kuroko hadn’t heard of me before our brief meeting, not enough to know my name, least my reputation,” Akashi answered back smoothly, and Tetsuya wondered if he had imagined the small pause.

“Maybe, I have also seen the wrongness of my way and have asked around. I think my classmate was feeling ill that day, as it seemed only mentioning Akashi-kun’s name and that we spoke had the effect of making her feel a sudden weakness of heart,” Tetsuya continued unfazed, his twinkling eyes the only indication of his amusement as he shared this particular story. “Does Akashi-kun always have such an unusual effect on everyone? I must then simply watch for my health,” he joked, and he was pleased to see Akashi taking his humour in stride, red eyes dancing with mischief before the other let out a small but amused huff.

“Preposterous,” Midorima exclaimed looking very put off at having been seated between Aomine and Murasakibara, two of the messiest eaters Tetsuya had ever come across. “There is no such effect or weakness, there are many people that simply need to follow their actions with an exaggerated and unneeded sequence of dramatics, and that simply  seems to happen more often to Akashi considering his standing,” he explained thoroughly, in a slow, superior voice, as if he was lecturing everyone in the nature human behaviours. Tetsuya just raised a curious eyebrow at the other’s seriousness, before his slightly put off and bewildered eyes turned again on Akashi’s amused ones.

“Maybe there is a new disease,” he deadpanned, his eyes never leaving Akashi’s. “A sudden madness borne out of admiration, perhaps? Akashi-kun is quite skilled after all,” he added in all seriousness, and as Midorima spluttered angrily that there was no scientific or logical basis for such a disease, Tetsuya couldn’t help the small pleased smile that graced his face as Akashi seemed to barely repress his laughter.

“Relax, Midorima, Kuroko was only joking,” Akashi finally intervened, just in time to save Midorima from a premature aging fit, Tetsuya supposed, as the other seemed to gain a few decades with his sternness. “And, there is no ‘-sama’ needed, Kuroko, ‘-kun’ would suffice if you must. I am by no means someone of a standing high enough to demand such respect,” he continued, an odd mix of feelings colouring his voice.

“But according to Midorima-kun, you have _a_ standing,” Tetsuya smartly fired back, his eyes looking at Akashi when he wasn’t watching for his meal in between bites.

“Aka-chin is Aka-chin,” Murasakibara added surprising both Akashi and Testuya enough to turn towards the other boy. “He will always be Aka-chin, no matter what others think of him. Or I’ll crush them,” he continued after a small pause of thoughtful consideration.

“Thank you,” Akashi responded kindly, and Tetsuya understood the other’s words were genuine, honest pleasure and gratitude permeating underneath these two simple words.

“Akashi is the single heir of the Akashi conglomerate,” Midorima explained immediately after this particularly odd exchange. “A lot of people want to befriend him, and had tried so before in the past simply to be closer to his status.” The contempt was obvious in his voice, and Tetsuya felt turning defensive from both a very odd sense of anger and disgust over such mercantile behaviour, as well as a feeling that the green haired boy was voicing an unsaid challenge.

Tetsuya simply stared at the other before speaking, “I find such behaviour lowly and inexcusable. Appreciating a person for their status is downgrading for the person doing so themselves, and insulting to the other party. Individuals should only be appreciated for their own skills and actions.”

Only after speaking so, did he realise how all the other boys at the table seemed to have dropped any other activity as to simply gape at Tetsuya. Embarrassed, he wondered if he had spoken out of line, his words passionate and unusually full of feeling. Unable to glance at Akashi to see his reaction, as he realised how personal such words have sounded, Tetsuya simply continued to gaze at Midorima determinedly, who took a few seconds to process his words before giving an approving nod.

“I agree myself with such an assessment. Unfortunately, most of our peers are none the wiser to share such views.”

“Well, you hadn’t really thought Tetsu would be interested in something like status, had you, Midorima?” Aomine added casually, though his eyes burned with repressed fury. “What was all this talk about status, as if any of us care about crap like that?” Tetsuya was surprised Aomine had had the insight to catch the small unsaid exchange, yet nonetheless felt a rush of affection for the other’s obvious trust and respect.

“I know so,” Midorima answered, and for once he sounded sheepish and just slightly apologetic. “I am sorry if I had insulted you, Kuroko, it was not my intention.”

“No offence taken, Midorima-kun. I understand why you would ask _such_ a question in the first place.”

“Jeez, you should better trust my judgement of my friends,” Aomine added still put off and offended on Tetsuya’s behalf.

“I hadn’t meant-“

“Well, what is happening here?” a new voice quipped, interrupting the blooming argument. Everyone turned to look at the newcomer, a boy with silver hair and a wicked smile, who had slithered quietly next to their table unheard in the growing commotion.

“Nothing of importance, Haizaki,” Akashi answered diverting the boy’s attention towards himself, stopping him from eyeing Midorima and Aomine. “Just a simple misunderstanding.”

“Well, what aren’t small arguments between friends,” the other responded in a casual and carefree way that denoted zero interested in the topic of conversation, and far too much interest in the altercation. “I sit away for a while and this team comes falling down.” And to emphasise his words, he shook his head with a mocking expression of compassion.

“Where were you for the past week, Haizaki,” Midorima asked, and Tetsuya remarked in sudden surprise how the other seemed far tenser than user – even by Midorima’s standards – since the new boy’s apparition.

“Around, I guess. Have some new friends I had to hang out with.” _Unlike you_ , his words seemed to kindly imply.

“Well, you are part of the team so I am glad you could join us,” Akashi added, as mindful as always, yet Tetsuya couldn’t help but wonder if something was underlying such an open and amiable display of attention that was surely simple courteousness from the other. “You can sit next to Kuroko,” he responded inclining his head to his right towards Kuroko and the empty spot at his side.

Just at the other’s eyes finally settled on him with a surprised jolt, Tetsuya realised who the newcomer was, his name rising up from the memories of their first test when they had joined the basketball club. As grey settled on sky blue, Tetsuya nodded in a polite but slightly cold and albeit curious introduction.

“I’m Kuroko Tetsuya, nice to make your acquaintance.”

Haizaki for all his worth did not scream, but he couldn’t help his surprised exclamation, “What the-,” immediately interrupted by Aomine almost jumping from his seat yelling, “Hecky!” his eyes glaring angry holes at the other.

The pause that followed was awkward, with Midorima shaking his head in embarrassment – for the other boy, while also wondering why he had decided to play basketball from all the sports available – Murasakibara stopping his binge eating – as he seemed to have an endless supply of snacks – just to exclaim childishly, “Ohhh, Mine-chin said a bad word!”

Tetsuya wondered if facepalming was an appropriate reaction, Akashi’s own thoughts concealed from his view as the blue-haired turned around to glare at his friend.

“Aomine-kun, I hope, realises I know what a swear word is and how that was deeply unnecessary,” Tetsuya remarked in a clipped voice, his eyes expressing the combination of irritation and disappointment.

“Well, yes, honestly, but… uh…,” Aomine eloquently explained his unnecessary intervention. Thankfully, Haizaki himself saved him from completely frying his brain by looking for an explanation.

“Holy hell, were you there all this time?” he asked as he seated himself in the chair next to Tetsuya.

“Yes,” he responded, and he hoped that only Akashi, who gave away a very inconspicuous cough, understood how in his mind he already considered the other exceptionally thick for asking such a obvious question. “I was sitting here since the beginning.”

Haizaki seemed even more surprised by this admission, before looking at the other very unfazed team members, who continued their meals unperturbed by the presence of this new and odd boy at their table.

“No offence though, but… um, who are you?” Haizaki asked again, obviously confused by the change in their sitting arrangement since the last time they sat together.

“I am Kuroko Tetsuya,” he explained, not adding that he had introduced himself just a few seconds ago. “Aomine’s friend,” he continued, thinking he should take pity on the other.

“…how haven’t I seen you before?”

Thinking that any other response would be especially rude, Tetsuya settled for the truth. “I have a low presence.”

Haizaki gawked at him, still bewildered before turning to look at Aomine, and then at Akashi who obviously also didn’t have any problems with Kuroko as he continued to eat his meal unperturbed.

“Huh,” Haizaki exclaimed. “I guess Aomine brought his housewife to sit with us,” he concluded.

In hindsight, Tetsuya assumed he could count down how long it took his friend to sputter up indignantly after he processed the comment. As it was, a pin could be heard to drop in the silence, which followed such an odd statement, before Aomine attempted to throttle the other in the full view of the whole school.

“Tetsu is not my housewife! Or a housewife! What even, Haizaki!”

“Ha? Weren’t you just fighting over him before I came, before jumping like some sort of mother hen to spare his sensibilities? I dunno man, you made it sound as if he is your housewife,” Haizaki explained plainly and Tetsuya pondered if the other was really an idiot or just acting especially difficult.

Aomine resembled his best imitation of the unfinished fish in his bento with his mouth ajar in obvious disbelief, his fist clenching as he seemed ready to jump over the table and tackle Haizaki, while Midorima obviously thought the windows were the most fascinating thing in the whole cafeteria as he gazed pointedly outside trying to pretend not be part of this conversation, his hand curled around the small statute he had brought today at the table. Murasakibara appeared honestly confused, turning towards Akashi as if he demanded a response for this sudden interruption to their meal.

“Aomine-kun, don’t,” Tetsuya started, at the same time as Akashi spoke in a definite tone, “That’s enough, Haizaki,” both of them stopping to look at each other. Tetsuya pointedly glared at his read head companion; he wasn’t sure what he saw in his eyes, but Akashi only kept his gaze for a moment, after conceding with a long suffering sigh and a nod for Tetsuya to handle the situation.

“Aomine-kun, please calm down,” Tetsuya started again.

“But, Tetsu!” the other exclaimed in a combination of anger and distress.

“It is fine. Haizaki-kun only meant this as a joke, didn’t he?” Tetsuya asked, turning his best disapproving gaze towards the silver haired boy.

“Well, yeah-”

“Besides,” Tetsuya promptly interrupted the other not letting have a word in, “if I were to be a housewife for someone I certainly wouldn’t choose to be one for Aomine-kun. No offence.”

Midorima immediately choked on his drink hearing those words, Aomine also forgetting his anger only to switch looking like a very upset puppy. The most surprising reaction of them all, which clearly put Haizaki at unease, was Akashi bursting out laughing at hearing those words, Murasakibara only nodding sagely in approval.

“Now this is interesting, Kuroko. Why would you say so?” Akashi asked, sounded far too amused and pleased with such a response, while Aomine looked somewhere between crossed and hoping teleportation was suddenly a human possible ability.

“Well, as good of a friend as Aomine-kun is, he isn’t the most orderly person I’ve met…”

“…Hey!”

“…or the most hardworking…”

“…honestly, who are you defending here?!”

“…though he has his qualities. Deep, deep, _deep,_ down below. He is a kind person I must give him that…”

“…aren’t you generous, Tetsu!?” Aomine intoned sarcastically in mocked appreciation at receiving such a courteous description from his friend.

“…but he would certainly be the kind of person that would leave all the house work to his wife, while sparing no thought in helping in any kind of domestic task,” Tetsuya continued as he gazed upwards in a mask of fake concentration, as he continued his little speech about Aomine’s marriage prospects.

“…he is right, you know?” Midorima added quietly, swiftly receiving a slap on his arm from a very disconcerted Aomine for his troubles.

Akashi only laughed again, at Tetsuya’s description, further making Haizaki question in what kind of parallel universe he had temporarily stepped into.

“Are you saying the only kind of qualities you would accept from a potential partner is their ability to sustain domestic bliss?” he taunted.

“No, of course not. I find it very important for a partner to be able to match me intellectually…”

“Mine-chin wouldn’t be able to do with Kuro-chin. Kuro-chin is clearly too smart for Mine-chin,” Murasakibara pointed out seemingly interested in this conversation even as it was not related to food.

“Honestly, shut your fuck, Murasakibara…”

“…while also being a person that could meet my emotional needs halfway,” Tetsuya explained carefully.

“Meet your emotional needs halfway?” Akashi asked leaning his chin on the palm of his hand and looking pensively towards the other boy.

“Well, yes. Akashi-kun would understand that it could is of utmost important to have someone to match you in skill mentally, while also taking care of your feelings. Don’t you agree?” He was surprised himself by how earnest the question was, apart from his previous inquires that were meant as small friendly quips towards Aomine which had hopefully also unsettled Haizaki. Not only that, it was even odder how interested he was to hear Akashi’s response. But Akashi didn’t answer, his only reply being an inconspicuous hum, as his eyes stayed trained on Tetsuya’s, his mouth pulling towards an enigmatic smile as he derived amusement from an unsaid joke.

“…You guys are just weird,” Haizaki suddenly exclaimed, reminding everyone that he was still at the table, his face contorted in a mixture between an uncomfortable grimace and an annoyed frown. It was quite comical to pull off Tetsuya found out.

“Well, Haizaki-kun only commented how I could be Aomine-kun’s housewife, which I simply disagree with, and responded why,” Tetsuya answered innocently, his face a mask of angelic gullibility.

“Still, you didn’t have to murder me with your response, Tetsu,” Aomine added, sounded very put off and grumpy. Tetsuya tried his hardest not to smile, yet still failed, sending his friend an unsaid apology, only to receive a disbelieving but surrendering look, giving in to his little game with halfway-amused huff.

Haizaki didn’t say anything, only looking slightly perturbed with the whole conversation, before attempting to finally change the subject.

“Fine. Whatever. Hope you had fun… with whatever that was. What were you talking about before I came here?”

“Oh, just about books and reading,” Tetsuya answered flippantly before anyone else could.

Haizaki remembered in the end that he already had had lunch before joining them at their table and promptly leaving.

* * *

“You are interested in him.”

The words echoed out throughout the empty hallway, the lingering weight of their touch feeling like an invisible chill winding around the sunny background and stifling it with tension.

Seijuurou pondered for a second whether it would help him in any way to deny the accusation, but the thought was fleeting, barely an amusing touch on his conscience before his eyes meet Midorima’s green, piercing gaze and decided it would be a futile game to play around the other.

“I thought we had already established this, Midorima,” Seijuurou instead answered boldly, his eyes challenging in the way he knew it would make his friend scoff. Many things had changed over the years, but fortunately, he had to say that his bond with the other boy had not been one of the things to do so. Midorima was the same earnest and intelligent boy he had met many years ago in hospital corridors as his world was slowly crumbling apart.

His mother had just fallen ill. It had been one of her biggest medical crisis at the time, and his father was away at a conference. Seijuurou clearly remembered his fear – a fact he made sure to not show to anyone else; there was simply no way he would let himself dabble in that sort of terror ever again, even through mere remembrance – and how lost he had felt as they took his mother in, her condition grave enough that all adults would overlook a small, scared child.

So perhaps it was that reason exactly that he was not overlooked by another child.

Later on, he would learn how important his new acquaintance was, the child the son of the respectable owner of the hospital, the doctor that was actually in charge of his mother and a very important business partner of his father. Seijuurou had cared for neither of these things when the other boy reached out to comfort him, as his eyes stung in horrified understanding, his tears barely held at bay by the choking weight restricting his throat like a painful claw. He needn’t be told how bad the whole situation was; even at the age of seven he was by no means a fool. His mother falling helplessly in a heap on the ground right his very eyes quite a clear sign to interpret, and fear had dug its merciless clutches like cold daggers of anxiety and panic in his soul, muddling his thoughts and snatching his breaths away.

In a way, Midorima had not changed over the years, an awkwardness permeating through his every word at times hiding his kind nature. Yet, Seijuurou had learnt first-hand how his friend’s peculiarities were by no means a reason to not treasure the other’s company, his earliest memory of the other being a bunch of stumbled yet encouraging words followed by a clipped and unsure reassurance.

Seijuurou had never forgotten Midorima’s kindness, and as the years passed, the other had become an unreplaceable companion that could very well hold his own against and besides the Akashi heir.

“Tch, you know that is not what I meant, Akashi,” Midorima responded sullenly. Seijuurou would never admit it, but to some extent, he took great pleasure in riling his friend up. However, after a point, he begged for small mercies, like death, since Midorima could easily turn any topic of conversation in a lifelong sermon about responsibility. Thankfully, both parties had known each other long enough to tiptop the line between testing each other’s patience to the point of snapping.

“I do not know what you mean then,” Seijuurou denied perfectly knowing what the other had meant, but not having an answer to give. To some extent, he couldn’t understand himself when it came to Kuroko, so he didn’t want to answer Midorima’s intrusive questioning at all. Telling himself denial was a valid tactic not a cowardly act, he opened the door to the student council room leaving it open for the other to enter behind him.

Midorima entered behind him, just Akashi took a seat, his expression a mask of barely contained annoyance and disapproval. Still, he didn’t say anything before closing the door with a sigh and taking the opposite seat from Akashi in a familiar and well-practiced move. A shogi board was displayed between them on a small table, the pieces sprawled around in a half unfinished game they had continued for a few days now. Midorima looked impassively at the board taking in the situation. The game would come to a close soon enough; a close call, but he was sure he would lose this match too. Without hesitance, he moved another piece, further entering Seijuurou’s carefully lain trap.

“Can you for once be serious in your life?” he asked, his eyes set on Seijuurou’s even as the other boy didn’t look up to meet his gaze, instead analysing the board. It was unnecessary; he had assumed Midorima would use this tactic three moves ago.

“When have I not been serious?” he asked instead, making his own move. “Most people would assume I am a far too serious and respectable heir.”

“And we both know you also assume the general population is a bunch of fools,” Midorima replied back, his words clearly expressing he thought the very same. Seijuurou smirked towards his friend motioning it was his turn.

“That is such a rude assumption. I would never,” Seijuurou mocked pretending to be hurt.

Midorima raised a perfectly arched eyebrow in an exemplary mimicry of irony and disbelief. Seijuurou could not help but laugh, making Midorima frown further.

“This is what I meant! You are acting unlike yourself!” Seijuurou could only snort at his friend’s fussiness.

“You are imaging things.”

“You _laughed,”_ and the emphasis on the word laugh was so poignant that Midorima could have been telling him that he was committing a heinous crime.

“And how is that a bad thing?” Seijuurou countered, a small part of him taking pleasure from the discovering where his friend would go with his enquiries. Few people made Seijuurou curious most of times enough to try and guess their reasoning. Midorima was one of those people unpredictable enough to be worthy of doing just that.

“You do not simply laugh Akashi. Can you for one second just stop being irritating and actually participate in this discussion without obnoxiously manoeuvring around it?”

Seijuurou stopped to ponder this. Midorima had been raised in a good household, himself being an heir with a lot of responsibility. So, it came as no surprise that neither of them would simply fall on using vulgar language, years upon years of lessons and training making them unable to freely cuss. But this was the closest he had ever heard his friend actually come to calling him a little shit.

Silence descended over the room, as the two of them locked gazes in a silent match, their contrary wills locking in an unsaid duel. In the end, unlike himself, Seijuurou was the one to back down from their quiet confrontation before gazing thoughtfully through the window upon the school grounds. The dusk was an explosion of colour, orange light bathing the room in autumnal shades and playful reds. Soon enough the sun would set, casting the blooming cheery trees in the embrace of the still chilly spring nights, wind muttering in between their canopies in a contented song as it spread the small petals towards an unseen horizon.

“He is simply interesting,” he finally admitted, and the words were no more than a whispered caress in the humid breeze of the classroom, gone before they could even form an exact shape in existence through their admittance.

“Interesting?” Midorima repeated somewhere between stupefied and simply baffled. Seijuurou tried not to feel self-conscious as he considered the right words to explain his thoughts. Midorima was not a judgemental person even as his strong opinions and convictions that were simply expressed too bluntly made him seem so; there was no basis for him to get defensive. “Sorry Akashi, but I simply can’t follow you. I do not see anything worthy of being called interesting in that mundane boy.”

“Nothing at all, Midorima?” he asked in a dissatisfied tone of voice knowing the other was intentionally being obtuse.

“Details Akashi. He lacks talent or any special skill. Cheek and wit do not make other people interesting.”

Seijuurou stopped and mulled over the other’s words. As he started talking, Midorima seemed less tense, already sensing the slight shift between what he had previously called Seijuurou’s evasive public persona and the sincere words of his friend. It was a habit, he supposed, something that had been instilled in him through his upbringing as the heir of someone always living under the public’s scrutiny. Midorima dealt with it by simply raising himself to some unobtainable standards of perfection he would exude in front of everyone else. Seijuurou had long ago decided he would own those standards and bend their rigid form to his will.

To some extent, he was ready to agree with Midorima. Objectively and logically speaking, Kuroko Tetsuya as an individual seemed unexceptionally ordinary.

But that was not Seijuurou saw. From the moment he had seen the other, he had had his interest piqued, magnetically interested in the oddity the other’s presence was, even as he seemed to lack any other unique skill. He could not explain it, and perhaps that was what confused him and angered him most; this personal interest and fascination he found in the boy’s person, which he would call it nothing but instinctual. It went above his logic, something he could only explain as a feeling of _knowing_ that the other boy was important.

“If he finds a way to use my advice he would be a good addition to the team. A way to secure victory regardless of chances or circumstances,” he added slowly, but he knew it was a poor explanation, and Midorima immediately tore it apart.

“ _If,_ and even that is a small guarantee for you to gamble on. What even makes you think he has the capability to make use of your advice?” The implication that he had wasted his time on the other boy was ringing loud and clear between the two boys, a cold accusation that seemed to extend the distance between them with icy animosity.

“It is merely a feeling _Shintarou_ ,” Seijuurou finally responded, his voice politely frigid with all the fury he would not openly express at the other’s irritating words.

“And I am telling you, acting on a _feeling_ is unlike you, _Seijuurou_ ,” Midorima responded still insistent in the way only a stubborn but worried friend could be. Even knowing so, Seijuurou could only feel the strain of their words in the air, the other’s irritated worry gnawing at his own temper. Perhaps his own displeasure was made known by his unusual use of Midorima’s first name, their strict politeness making both of them unable to pass a boundary most children their age found normal, because the green haired boy took one deep breath his tense shoulders forcefully dropping as he gathered his composure.

“I must apologise,” Midorima started and Seijuurou nodded, “I was out of line.”

“No. You were not,” Seijuurou admitted slowly, actively lowering his defences as he also tried to regain control of his own hurt feelings. “I also overstepped the boundaries of what is acceptable. Please, excuse my anger.”

Midorima nodded accepting his apology. For a few moments he seemed to think over the matter, his face scrunched up in indecision, before with painful determination he admitted reluctantly, “I… simply am worried.”

Seijuurou smiled indulgently at his friend’s admission. Midorima hadn’t changed much since he was a child; his pride was a determinably important factor that guided his words and action, making him a fearsome and worthy opponent. Even so…

“Your compassion is still both your downfall and salvation, Midorima. I appreciate your concern and protectiveness of me, but it isn’t necessary,” Seijuurou admitted softly, his features relaxing as his anger dissipated away.

Midorima simply looked away at his kind words, his face set in an even fiercer expression of open irritation and displeasure at having heard such ‘improper’ admissions even from someone he considered his friend. It amused Seijuurou deeply how the other was unable to accept compliments when it came to his own person, his serious temper coming to a screeching halt and unravelling simply by being the receiver of a few and unusual display of kindness.

“You are being ridiculous, Akashi,” he settled to say, his eyes and face downturned and fixedly staring at the wall to the side in a put off display of embarrassed displeasure. “I especially hate it when you get in one of these… off putting convictions of yours you just feel like you need to act upon.”

“Perhaps. But then, have I ever been wrong?” he asked, and experience backed up by success made the assuredness in his voice sound not like arrogance but like confidence. He only got a scoff in reply for his efforts, which only made him laugh once more.

“Even with the excuse of your usual schemes…”

“…that usually come to fruition,” Seijuurou interrupted taking a pleasure in seeing the other being off put by his being right.

“… _that even if usually come to fruition_ , it still does not explain your sudden interest in the other boy,” Midorima commented, his tapped fingers playing with a forgotten shogi piece. Seijuurou assumed there was no point in pretending to play anymore; _that_ game was mostly over anyway.

The question was odd, and for a few seconds Seijuurou was stumped, not knowing how to even begin to process it, the accusation far away from what he had imagined the other try to say to him.

“Don’t even begin to deny it,” Midorima cut him off as he opened his mouth to deny the preposterous affirmation.

“I wasn’t going to,” Seijuurou smoothly replied, as they both knew he was preparing to deny it. “I just don’t know where you have gotten that impression.”

Midorima leaned back in his chair, his hands crossing over his chest as he raised both eyebrows in a slow display of supercilious expectancy. Seijuurou fought away a deep urge to squirm in discomfort or to look away guiltily.

“Okay, maybe I know what you are speaking about,” he huffed out petulantly, irritated that even as he attempted to dodge this conversation and gain the upper hand, Midorima was still pretty much controlling the flow of their discussion since the very beginning.

“For someone that spends so much time pretending to be infallible, you sure devote a significant amount of that to play dumb. It’s perplexing,” Midorima remarked sarcastically.

“You are being amazingly observant today,” Seijuurou responded in kind, trying not to sound too uptight.

“You wouldn’t keep me around otherwise. You love people that challenge you,” Midorima remarked both pointedly and slyly, reminding Seijuurou that the other boy was just as well versed in the art of saying everything while saying nothing at all everyone in the higher society seemed to have mastered since infancy.

Seijuurou deeply sighed feeling a headache forming. Annoyed, he bunched over the table his forehead resting on the palm of his hand as he mentally asked some higher deity why Midorima was so hell bent on butting in on this particular matter. The truth was he wasn’t deflecting the question in one of his usual tactics to hide some bigger truth; the reality was he just couldn’t make his mind about Kuroko Tetsuya.

Even after so many days since Kuroko had first sat to sit with them, Seijuurou could not define the sudden burst of madness that had overtaken him when he had invited the boy to sit at their table. Midorima had been right; at first, he had devised having lunch together as a way of creating unity in between teammates. Inviting an outsider was simply against his initial goal. He hadn’t done it out of compassion either. Seijuurou was not a bad person, and he really felt for anyone that had to get used to longer periods of solitude – after all, he had spent far too many days only with the company of his own thoughts while growing up – but that still was not a good enough reason that would serve any higher purpose for him to do so. In the end, it was clear everyone had friends they got along with besides the basketball club. That alone was not an open invite for everyone simply being in the good graces of someone playing for the first string to join them while having lunch. And yet…

_And yet…_

“It… was just his attitude.”

“His attitude,” Midorima commented deadpanned clearly not impressed with Seijuurou’s reasoning.

“Let me finish. It was not just his attitude or his cheek or his words. It was just the air he had around him… his quiet resolution and dignity, a person so unlike Aomine… I guess I was just curious in the end what type of person he would be…”

Midorima didn’t say anything as the other boy spoke, letting Seijuurou finish his jumbled explanation. His face didn’t betray his emotions per se, but it was no secret for the redhead that his friend was severely disappointed with his lacklustre explanation. For a second only the quiet whisper of the evening breeze could be heard in between the two boys, the silence disturbed by the pensive murmur of the leaves outside bending shyly to the wind caress. As the last rays of dusk were giving away to petrol skies inked softly with flimsy swipes of pink, Midorima spoke honestly.

“I didn’t know what to expect from you. Perhaps, even someone like you can act on such simple feelings.”

“Perhaps,” Seijuurou admitted freely, but the word felt incomplete, a small lie made from omitting an alluded truth kept at bay in secrecy even from his own mind. “Are you disappointed?”

“No. Simply surprised. Bewildered perhaps, since I do not know how to take this,” his friend responded sincerely. Seijuurou watched how Midorima slowly adjusted the glasses on his noise, his fingers giving away the nervous energy unsettling him by being confronted with the unknown.

“Perhaps,” he repeated, but the word was half-hearted, and admission uttered to fill in the creeping quiet of the classroom. “You should take it as you will. But there simply is no deeper answer.”

The discussion reached a deadlock, a loss of words in front of a confusing dilemma. There was nothing more to say, and nothing more to ask. Seijuurou swept his eyes over the abandoned shogi board; it had been a good match close to an actual draw. Technically, he had won it, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling he had actually lost something through this whole conversation.

“It is getting late,” he uttered his eyes wandering away tracing the glass pane of the window, through the curtains, catching sight of the first stars breaking through the darkness of the inky night sky with their feeble light.

“It is,” Midorima admitted just as softly. Despite their words holding a press of urgency, a reminder of their duty and responsibilities, neither of the boys made a move to leave.

In the end, they didn’t agree before rearranging the pieces to start a new shogi match, words exhausted through tiring honesty and muddled thoughts.

_They simply did._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you for reading this chapter. Not a lot happens plot wise, and perhaps it will be one or two more chapters until we get to *whispers* serious business.
> 
> Shout out to my amazing beta @Niahara_Erskine that keeps pestering me for updates. I am sorry if there still are mistakes. It's ass o'clock in the morning as I am updating this. Thank you so much for reading!


	3. Unnamed Uncertainties and Unwanted Anxieties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Momoi Satsuki came as a pleasant surprise.
> 
> Nijimura Shuuzou was another pleasant surprised, a flurry of harsh words underlined with honest caring.
> 
> And Tetsuya couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t a really obvious smile, or a happy smile; but it was a content smile arisen from a feeling of belonging that took him by surprise. He didn’t know when he had started feeling it, a sense of kinship, perhaps an unwilling attachment. He wanted to play with them, not as an outsider tolerated out and accepted into their circle, but recognised as an important member and part of their group.
> 
> Seijuurou only shrugged even as his mind raged with inexplicable panic, the weight of expectations heavy on his shoulders, as Kuroko expressed his faith in him. All of a sudden losing meant not only disappointing his father and himself, losing his passion and image in front of everyone else, but also shattering the trust that was placed on him he realised, not only from Kuroko but from Nijimura and so many other people that have acknowledged his skill above his seniors that have for so long strived to achieve his position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Sorry for the late update my life has been hectic as hell (f-u 2k17). Anyway, I am coming back with a new chapter that is long enough (I hope) to make up for the late update.  
> As you can see the fic now has a chapter number. It is approximate, but as far as I estimate this first part of the series will be around this length (perhaps longer or smaller, we will see!). Thank you so much for your kind words; tbh if it weren't for my wonderful beta and your comments I would have abandoned this fic; thankfully I didn't, and I have your kind words to thank for this. Really, your interactions made me think people were still reading this so here is an update! I hope it doesn't disappoint. More akakuro will be happening after this chapter so enjoy the quiet before the storm!

Momoi Satsuki came as a pleasant surprise.

Tetsuya, perhaps making a personal mistake, never thought about Aomine’s other friends. Which in hindsight was a stupid thought; Aomine with his honest and kind personality was bound to have other friends besides him. Even so, not all the imagining in the world would have prepared him for meeting Momoi about a month or so after he had started sitting with the Teiko first string for lunch.

Perhaps it was ironic he met her in _that_ particular evening.

“Not train together anymore?!”

Aomine’s words rung with an echo of incredulous fury mingled with hurt. The ball he had been preparing to shoot fell helplessly to the side, rolling away until the shadows concealed its form. Yet, Aomine didn’t move, his body frozen his burning eyes set on Tetsuya with something akin to betrayal playing into them.

Kuroko sighed, and preparing for a lengthy explanation, he dropped his school bag moving around the gym to recover the ball.

“Tetsu, explain it to me,” Aomine demanded impatient as always, but enough time had passed between the two of them for Tetsuya to recognise the slight worry underlying his words.

“It is nothing to worry about, Aomine-kun,” Tetsuya started his hands pushing the ball towards the other in a pass.

“Isn’t it? Because the last time you came into this gym not wearing training clothes you were telling me how you’re about to give up on the basketball club. Should I call Akashi over to give you another talk?” Even while speaking, Aomine effortlessly caught the ball even as he frowned at his friend, his palm sending the ball in a dribble before shooting it without looking towards the hoop. Tetsuya scoffed as it went in.

“I am not a dog Aomine-kun. I don’t even see why Akashi-kun would bother to come over to give me a talk.”

“Well, he obviously is also fond of you and gave you that crazy advice a while back. He wouldn’t have done that with almost everyone,” Aomine muttered with reluctance the compliment for the other boy, his usual dismissive attitude towards Akashi fighting with the unusual need to approve some of his actions.

Tetsuya was flustered not knowing what to make of Aomine’s admission. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend how in the world someone like him had done something worthy of Akashi’s recognition, or even more stupefying, his admiration enough to warrant what Aomine said it was special treatment. Thankfully, he didn’t have to deal much with the idea as his friend continued speaking.

“…this sudden new idea of yours has to do with Akashi’s advice, right?”

“It does, actually,” Tetsuya admitted relieved that Aomine seemed now open to listen to his words, his heart having seized in fear at the idea of honestly upsetting Aomine. “It might be selfish… especially since it is a decision I also wouldn’t normally make. I love spending my evenings with Aomine-kun,” he admitted softly, his eyes bashfully settling on the other before immediately turning away. The third gym was clearly old, Tetsuya noted as his eyes settled with a reminiscent fondness on the wall behind Aomine, always smelling of dust and something intrinsically old but pleasant that always seemed to linger in all spaces after years upon of years of usage. He was going to miss this.

“But you still can’t train with me anymore,” Aomine sighed in understanding, his waving hand giving away his frustration with the whole situation.

“It’s not that. Aomine-kun is very kind, but I thought about what Akashi-kun has said, and I think it would help if I did some of the extra practice session they run at times for the third string… I… what I had thought of is not an idea I can simply perfect while playing against a single opponent.” Tetsuya paused as he explained all this, before forcing himself to continue. “Even if this is the logical course of action I am still reluctant to part from Aomine-kun… Playing with Aomine-kun is surprisingly fun.”

Aomine didn’t say anything as he looked at Tetsuya, his eyes holding an unknowable feeling inside their debts. Tetsuya knew he was acting unusually emotional, his words and slightly trembling voice giving away how this affected him just as much as his clenched fists. In the end, Aomine didn’t say anything before starting to move closer to Tetsuya stopping right as he was in front of the other boy.

“Are you an idiot?” he asked, his hand coming down over Tetsuya’s shoulder in both a friendly gesture and angry slap making the smaller boy wince. “If you don’t want to stop playing basket with me then you simply shouldn’t.”

Tetsuya was at a loss for words for a second before he started spluttering out protests.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you want to test your idea on the court with a team and opponents. So, what?”

“I do not see how Aomine-kun suggests I do that and play with him,” Tetsuya remarked sarcastically even as hope bloomed uninvited in his chest, exhilaration bubbling through his tingly fingers.

“Two times per week. Come here and play with me twice, and you will still have enough time to train… whatever you’re doing. What are you planning Tetsu? Figured how do bend a pass?” Aomine joked, his hand coming up to playfully mess with Tetsuya’s hair, as the other fought to batt it away.

“Something like that,” Tetsuya answered vaguely, but he was also smiling even as he mostly fought the other’s pushy hands away, relief and joy making him feel especially giddy. “Only Aomine-kun could come with such a simple and straightforward idea.”

“Ah, Tetsu, but you simply think too much. Man, everything single one of you smarter people think of so many unnecessary things. As if your thoughts eat away your logic! Like some sort of space invader in your body!” Aomine added making some exaggerated dramatic noises.

“Aomine-kun, that makes absolute zero sense,” Tetsuya deadpanned unimpressed at having his thoughts compared to an alien invader.

“Tch, you get what I mean. Tetsu is smart, like Akashi, and both of you are so thick. Then Midorima is the thickest so that might be a compliment to him,” Aomine pondered thoughtfully, his fingers playing on his chin on a mimicry of an old monk sharing his ancient knowledge. Tetsuya punched him on the ribs for his efforts, even as he tried not to laugh himself.

After that there wasn’t much left to say, with Aomine deciding since Tetsu wasn’t staying late he had no reason either since training alone was boring.

“So, you better make it to the first string Tetsu,” he growled in a mock threat, “because I will die having to train with Midorima. Or worse _Akashi_. Do you know that even Nijimura-senpai personally trains with Akashi? There are rumours Nijimura will be named vice-captain,” Aomine continued in an endless string of complaints as they made their way out of the gym into the warm May evening. Soon enough the rainy season will come to paint the world in dull colours and sharp, earthy smells, before the scorching heat of summer would settle in with lazy drowsiness over in the stifling air. The world was constantly changing, Tetsuya though bitterly, even as he seemed to be stuck in the same circles of helplessness.

‘ _Not this time. This time I will figure it out, and I won’t give up_ ,’ he quietly promised himself listening to the comforting monotone, babbling Aomine passed off as a story with some fondness. 

Then their quiet walk was disturbed by a powerful and _very_ angry yell.

“Aomine-kun!”

Tetsuya barely had time to turn around before a flurry of pink haired darted by him so fast he barely had time to move out of the way before a true accident might happen. His eyes barely registered a panicked and resigned Aomine, dark blue eyes expressing the deepest regret similar to a warrior on the battlefield finding his end before his time, before the person – a girl Tetsuya noted – stopped in front of Aomine thoroughly smacking him with a notebook over his face.

“Aomine-kun, you absolute idiot!” the girl cried, and both him and Tetsuya actually panicked more at the sight of actual tears in her big expressive eyes than the fact that they were obviously shooting death glares at the bigger boy. “How could you?!”

“What do you want, Satsuki! Jeez, what is this about!” Aomine asked also panicked, completely ignoring the initial hit with a scowl, his hands bracing the smaller girl from swaying backwards from her hit. Tetsuya noted somewhere between amusement and utter disbelief the familiarity between the two of them, and wondered just who the mysterious girl was that Aomine clearly cared for.

“I can’t believe you forgot you own mother’s birthday!” the girl exclaimed, trying to break free and punch Aomine again. Tetsuya was surprised by the affirmation – and no, he hadn’t forgotten the fact that Aomine had parents and hadn’t just been birthed into existence by his sheer love for basketball through some inhumane process – that he actually missed his cue for a distressed response or the chance to make a run for it and hide because not even he could help his friend after he had done such an unpardonable deed.

“My what?” Aomine choked out clearly surprised, his hold on the girl slipping enough for her to slap his chest angrily. The lost and slightly fearful look in his eyes gave Tetsuya an idea that Aomine had remembered precisely that he indeed had a mother. Mentally, Tetsuya sent a prayer for his friend’s survival.

“Your mo-ther, Ahomine!” the absolutely enraged girl enunciated. “I can’t believe you! Aomine-san even called me asking me where you were because you weren’t answering your phone! As if I am your keeper! You promised to be home early Aomine-kun! How could you!” By the end of that statement, the girl’s voice wobbled as more tears gathered in her eyes as she valiantly tried to blink them away with the singular decision to continue glaring at Aomine. Tetsuya agreed, and suddenly respected this girl that for all means seemed to have dealt with Aomine’s forgetfulness for far too long.

“Aomine-kun is a horrible son,” Tetsuya commented mournfully shaking his head, making Aomine remember he was indeed still there, his face contorting in a fascinating combination of annoyance for his friend and worry for the crying girl. What he hadn’t counted on as he teased his friend was to consider that the girl probably hadn’t seen him standing there, fact that was confirmed as she froze at the sound of his voice, before turning around. As her teary, pink eyes settled on his own blue ones, it took her just a few seconds before she jumped away with a surprised squeak, seemingly forgetting her anger towards Aomine as she used him as a very effective human shield.

“W-who are you!?” she asked, clearly shaken, her eyes disbelievingly set on Tetsuya. It would have been amusing, but Tetsuya really didn’t take any pleasure in surprising girl’s that were obviously distressed. He had been raised better than that.

“Kuroko Tetsuya,” he introduced himself, “nice to make your acquaintance.”  Despite his assuring smile the girl only frowned further in confusion, her hands tightening on Aomine’s arm.

“Calm down, Satsuki. This is just Tetsu, my friend,” Aomine explained awkwardly.

Tetsuya looked at Aomine and at the girl, before coming to the very obvious conclusion that he also expressed, “Aomine-kun, I didn’t know someone as thick as you could have a girlfriend,” just as the girl also blurted out, “Aomine-kun made another friend?! Oh, poor you!” The pause that followed was awkward, both of them stopping from saying anything further as their eyes met startled. Aomine only huffed out an undignified reply over such painful accusations that were mostly true.

Tetsuya could only look in surprise at the girl, before nodding in understanding after a moment of thought; she clearly knew how difficult and painfully stubborn Aomine could be. Anyone that spent so much time to know this fact about his friend deserved his respect.

The girl only laughed, finally coming out from behind a very flustered Aomine to shake Tetsuya’s hand.

“Oh, by no means I am Aomine-kun’s girlfriend. I am Momoi Satsuki, Aomine-kun’s childhood friend,” she introduced herself softly as she calmed down from her initial surprise over Tetsuya’s presence.

“My sincere condolences then,” Tetsuya intoned deadpanned, making Aomine yell at him in anger, before mumbling something about betrayal. Despite that, Momoi only laughed, her earlier signs of distress slowly fading away, making Tetsuya glad his tactic to put her at ease was working. “Anyone that has stuck by for so many years around Aomine must be a very strong person,” he kindly offered.

“Oh my, thank you,” Momoi mumbled flustered by the compliment. “But you are right. After all, only Aomine-kun could forget what an important day it was,” she sighed mournfully, shaking her head.

“It is indeed unpardonable,” Tetsuya affirmed confidently, as Aomine slouched discontented next to them.

“Tetsu’s whose side are you on,” Aomine asked with his best hurt puppy look, eyes almost begging for support from his friend.

“Momoi-san’s obviously,” Tetsuya answered mercilessly, and it was an effort to stop abstain from smiling as his friend gaped back at him disbelieving for his treachery.

“How could you,” he mouthed the words not even a whisper, but Tetsuya only shook his head disappointedly.

“Aomine-kun still forgets he had previously accepted to be engaged in such a celebration, and won’t do anything for the matter. Momoi-san, please, I think it is best to leave now, since I do not wish to impose anymore. Aomine-kun has done enough for one night,” he added, and as Momoi turned around to scold Aomine for not being as serious as his friend, Tetsuya smiled wickedly towards him, Aomine’s face dropping down in disbelief at such blatant display of cruelty.

Tetsuya barely contained his laughter as he turned around and left a bewildered Aomine behind to suffer the dear punishment of Momoi’s anger for his uncaring attitude.

* * *

The next day, Tetsuya was just preparing to search for his bento to go and have lunch just as the break bell rung, when another unexpected event happened.

Tetsuya barely looked up preparing to slide out from his desk, when his attention was turned towards the door of their classroom behind which a clear commotion was happening. It didn’t take much wondering on his part before Aomine barged into his classroom, a storm of stilted, furious words followed by whispers of admiration and surprise, revealing him as the cause behind this event. His eyes barely scanned over the desks before he finally settled his on Tetsuya’s on his third try, and marched forward arms and back tense, his teeth gritted.

“Testu, you have to save me,” were the firsts words the other addressed Tetsuya, and behind the wall of frustrated anger Tetsuya amusedly remarked something akin to a whine hiding in Aomine’s voice. Still, even the direst of situations did not excuse such behaviour, and Tetsuya could feel the unusual sensation of being watched from all sides by shocked classmates, already conversing about how a Teiko first string player seemed so eager to talk to their shy classmate.

As it was, the Teiko first years were divided in 4 different classes. As far as he gathered by sitting with them for over a month, Tetsuya knew Aomine was in the same class as Murasakibara, while Momoi was in the same class with Akashi. Tetsuya pitied Midorima when he had found that he was in the same class as Haizaki, Tetsuya being alone in the last class. Until then, Aomine had never come by his classroom even as they both knew what class the other was in, so the visit was most unexpected.

“I would expect Aomine-kun is in some sort of grave danger for him to come over in such an uncharacteristic hurry,” Tetsuya chided, barely hiding the amusement from his words, as Aomine sighed besides his table at the back of the classroom.

“Listen,” Aomine hissed, his voice urgent, “you gotta come with me, _now_ , we are going to have dinner on the roof before...” But whatever he wanted to explain was lost as Momoi also came in a flurry of blinding anger, pink hair swishing around vengefully as she made space between gawking students, her voice ringing about the commotion with merciless bite.

“Dai-chan!” and it was clear any pretence of politeness was lost in her fit of anger for her childhood friend, as she stalked towards both of them and pointedly glaring at Aomine with such seriousness Tetsuya felt the need to slide out and hope no one would notice his departure to escape such a storm. Unfortunately, Aomine’s arm clasped around his wrist in what was most certainly not fear – as he would be denying this possibility adamantly later on when asked and teased about this – his breath stuttering in nervousness. Well… with no other option Tetsuya accepted his fate and decided to mildly enjoy the absolute chaos that was about to unravel in his classroom.

“Dinner didn’t go well I presume,” Tetsuya inquired, voice sardonic and mildly amused as Aomine turned a glare his way.

“Most definitely it didn’t! I cannot believe you, I seriously cannot believe you Dai-chan!” Momoi continued undeterred of the audience or Aomine’s attempts to escape. “Don’t you even dare! I will not stand by as you…”

But Tetsuya didn’t get to hear what Momoi couldn’t really stand, tides of fury and repentance respectively waving in the atmosphere around him as he had been unwillingly but quite entertainingly given a first place at the eye of a storm happening in between his confused classmates, as another voice pipped in to what Tetsuya mentally named The-Plan-To-Murder-His-Reputation-Of-A-Shy-Underdog-Of-The-Classroom. Okay, maybe the name was a tad too long.

“Perhaps Momoi you could tell us all what Aomine did in… another place?”

Testuya counted to five before turning to look between Momoi and Aomine to see Akashi Seijuurou in flesh and bones striding across the classroom towards him, not a ghost with a similar voice, even as Tetsuya was by this point unable not to recognise the other as soon as he started speaking, at times even before that as Akashi had a unique way of striding and gliding between people. He very much then took advantage of that ability as he swiftly found his way around the gaping crowd shooting Tetsuya a clearly amused smile. At this point, the whole class was shamelessly gawking, a girl actually having to fan herself from passing out from the nerves of having been in the approximate presence of ‘Akashi-sama’, murmurs flying and crawling like ants between every vestige of the classroom in a static hum.

“You sure do know all how to make an entrance,” Tetsuya commented, and Akashi merely chuckled before stopping behind Tetsuya his hand resting on the back of his chair.

“My apologies. I didn’t want to cause a bigger scene with my presence,” Akashi added sheepishly, and Tetsuya merely met his piercing red eyes with a look of disbelieving blue before rolling his.

“It is not your fault, Akashi-kun. You are merely a public figure and people just react to that, there is nothing to apologise,” Tetsuya added kindly because it didn’t make sense for the other to be ashamed of such a fact beyond his control. He missed the slightly surprised look on Akashi’s face as he turned his serene gaze promising unbelievable pain towards Aomine, the blue haired boy flinching and releasing Tetsuya’s arm he was still gripping. “Aomine-kun is the one that caused the commotion in the first place.”

“Tetsu that’s unfair,” Aomine started but he was interrupted once more by a figure dashing through the classroom door. Midorima looked most dishevelled, his jacket almost falling off his shoulder, his shirt looking as if it missed a few buttons as he mostly barged into the classroom, almost yelling Akashi’s name, a plushie snake resting over his shoulders and around his neck contently. Tetsuya simply facepalmed, at this point begging a higher deity to smite the entire classroom and school, since there was no way anyone would let this incident slide.

“You okay, Midorima?” and if Tetsuya hadn’t spent most of his lunches next to the other boy he would have missed Akashi’s veiled amusement behind a façade of proper concern and empathy. Midorima seemed very much aware of this too as he glared at the other boy.

“Was there any particular reason why I was almost mobbed by a group of students as I exited the classroom and tried to walk besides you?”

“How should I know?” Akashi asked, and the innocence behind his words made him definitely guilty. Tetsuya glared at the redhead, Akashi having to fight down a smirk in return as he realised he had been discovered. “I have no clue who could have started the rumours that the reason you were called at the Faculty Office yesterday meant that you would have a clue about the answers for the upcoming Maths test.”

“Not even one?” Midorima said, and his voice was strained and flat, thinly veiled contempt masked between his words as he clearly did not believe the other one. “And it has nothing to do with this scene?”

“Of course not. How would I have been able to discern that Momoi would be so upset with Aomine enough to cause a scene. And whenever that would happen, presumably in the lunch break when the whole school had more time, possibly resulting in a commotion around Kuroko’s classroom. And I certainly did not expect you to try and stop me from intervening as I thought to talk to Momoi before any of this happened. Not one bit.” Momoi by the end of this was shamefully blushing, even as her glare didn’t leave Aomine who would simply not catch anyone’s eye.

Tetsuya was simply unimpressed. “And why were you late in not trying any of this, Akashi-kun?”

“I got delayed by the mob attacking Midorima. Apparently, the Maths test is supposed to be quite hard,” Akashi confessed sheepishly, and Tetsuya could not even be bothered to think over Akashi showing such an uncharacteristic emotion as he fought the urge to plant his head on the table and ignore them all. Instead, he simply breathed in and out, mentally convincing himself that the situation wasn’t dire enough to require a school transfer as the rest of his class seemed petrified by these unusual happenings. Almost two months of school and Tetsuya had never felt the urge to skip school more.

“Hmm, why is everyone standing in the way here,” a voice drawled before Murasakibara looked inside the classroom already munching a bag of chips as he walked clearly towards cafeteria. “Ah? Aka-chin? Muro-chin? Mine-chin? And Sacchin? Eh? Why is everyone visiting Kuro-chin? We will miss the line for food!” he asked his face furrowing in a clearly bewildered frown.

And that was it. Tetsuya promptly got up, his bento between his hands as he quickly walked between his new friends, and if he gently shoved them away from his way, his manners had to be excused as it seemed no one else was trying to remember theirs. “Lunch. Out. _Now,”_ he gritted softly, his eyes glaring cerulean daggers towards the petrified group of people still clamming around his desk, immediately making all of them walk away in a hurry to leave the classroom, less they incur Tetsuya’s real wrath.

As he walked through the door at last, making sure everyone else was in front of him and actually walking towards the cafeteria, Tetsuya let out a pained sigh.

The Teiko first string was unbelievable.

* * *

Nijimura Shuuzou was another pleasant surprised, a flurry of harsh words underlined with honest caring.

The lunch break was chaos. As soon as she deemed it safe enough Momoi started drilling Aomine for his behaviour the previous night, making sure she was sited right beside him, just in case Aomine decided to give up and run. Her whole small body turned towards a very sheepish Aomine who in Tetsuya’s simple opinion seemed to try to compress himself out of existence and through the chair.

“…and I can’t believe you ate the whole cake alone, Dai-chan,” Momoi finished her speech, not having touched one bite of her own food as she vivaciously continued undeterred her tirade towards Aomine.

“Technically she was going to serve that cake to us anyway,” he grumbled in response peeking from behind his forearms for only a second, enough to see Momoi’s scowl of disapproval before decided it was indeed safer to stay hidden throughout this conversation, a means to extricate himself when all his other means of escaping have been slowly cut out.

“That simply does not excuse you forgetting it was her birthday in the first place!”

“Excuse me, not to be rude or anything, but what the fuck is going on?”

Six pairs of eyes turned towards the newest addition to their lunch table with expressions raging from polite interest to blatant disapproval. Haizaki seemed impervious towards all of them, lost in his own confusion as he gazed from his seat at the other end of the table towards Aomine and Momoi. Tetsuya seemed the conversation that was brewing was going to be interesting at least.

Momoi apparently thought that Haizaki’s words were a much greater offence than Aomine’s unidentified sins regarding birthday social customs, because that finally stopped her from scolding Aomine, only to turn around and glare at the other boy. Haizaki simply looked in a perpetual and quite earnest state of confusion at the girl, before his eyes wandered helplessly towards the other members of his team that were simply unwilling to help him. Tetsuya gazed to his right towards Akashi, but the boy seemed uninterested in the unfolding conflict, his eyes briefly meeting Tetsuya as he arched a brow before subtly pointing towards Haizaki.

Tetsuya did not understand what that meant, yet he still turned around to watch Momoi change her expression from angry and put off to a charming smile. The change seemed to freak out Haizaki even more, shooting a glance towards Aomine that was unhelpfully gazing at the whole thing from between his forearms, not wanting to draw Momoi’s attention towards himself now that indeed he was free of it.

“I am sorry,” Momoi asked saccharinely sweet, so politely that one might have missed the sharp edge of irony behind her words, “did we disturb you?”

Tetsuya was impressed once more with the pink haired girl, and from Akashi’s shuffling next to him and Midorima’s discreet cough he wasn’t the only one that had actually caught upon the sarcasm. Unfortunately, Haizaki seemed none the wiser, his face breaking into a haunting, confident grin.

“You actually did,” he leered, annoyance obvious in his tone, “I’ve never known a woman had so many reasons to complain before. Seriously, Aomine I don’t know why you’d keep your wife around if she’s only nagging you like this.”

“She is not my wife,” Aomine grumbled finally raising his head from behind his arms, his face marred with a scowl. “And I definitely don’t keep her around. Satsuki comes and stays wherever she pleases.”

“Well that’s a relief. I would’ve thought you were turning this small little gathering into your own personal fanclub,” he continued, but not before putting his chopsticks in between Tetsuya’s own bento and stealing a piece of omelette. Tetsuya contemplated briefly stabbing him with his own pair of chopsticks but decided against it.

“Amusingly how Haizaki-kun would keep using that term loosely,” Momoi chimed in, “when it’s obvious he is simply projecting his own insecurity over his probably imminent lonely future considering how his love life is going on at the moment.”

“What did you say?” Haizaki asked enraged, for once forgetting his meal as he directed a glare towards a still smiling Momoi feeling as if he had been vaguely insulted even though he had not paid full attention to the girl’s words. “Mind you I am doing very fine romantically. I have enough women to choose from.”

“Oh?” Momoi inquired her chin resting in the palm of her hand as she seemingly contemplated some facts mentally. “Hired escorts don’t really count, do they?” she muttered to herself, but enough for the whole table to hear making Akashi choke on the gulp of tea he was drinking. Tetsuya simply dropped the rice he was holding between his chopsticks in surprise, not expecting Momoi to make such a vulgar comment, the delicate girl looking like someone that would be very sensitive to such issues. Midorima seemed to agree, as he gaped towards Momoi from the other side of the table, and even Murasakibara stopped eating at the words. Only Aomine seemed unsurprised by the whole affair, and perhaps Tetsuya was to always keep in mind that these two had been childhood friends after all.

“Or… that’s what would one assume, since in general Haizaki-kun doesn’t keep the best company around himself. Romantically speaking.”

“You… You little… What are you saying?” Haizaki was shaking with annoyance, his hands clenched around his chopsticks as he glared at Momoi. The meaning of the words was quite clear, even as Momoi kept it politely elusive. Aomine had no such qualms as he spoke:

“He means you’re dating easy girls, idiot. Don’t make me spell it for you,” he continued with a bored voice. “And I would very much like if you would not start a joke that I am dating every single one of my friends. It is quite pathetic.”

Tetsuya was sure for a second that Haizaki was going to fly over the table and attack Aomine. Mentally and physically he braced for that possibility, but then that possibility was destroyed by the presence of another person joining their table, an imposing presence that shut up any untoward comment Haizaki was preparing to make by simply pressing resting a head on his head, forcefully enough to snap his neck downwards.

“What are you first year punks doing?” a dark-haired boy asked as he gazed over the table, seemingly unimpressed with Haizaki’s struggles to raise his head back to his normal position.

Tetsuya didn’t need to ask who the new person was; after all everyone was more or less who the dark haired senpai was. Nijimura-senpai, even if just only by one year their senior was a name known to all members in the basketball club.

“Nijimura, let go of me,” Haizaiki muttered unwilling to be used as an end table. Unfortunately for him Nijimura was completely unimpressed with his efforts.

“That’s Nijimura-senpai for you. And I didn’t ask you, did I, Haizaki?”

Whatever unfortunate answer Haizaki was about to utter was interrupted as Nijimura simply moved around the silver haired boy, pulling his chair to the side before unceremoniously taking his own seat from a neighbouring table to seat down where the other previously stood. Tetsuya raised his eyebrows at the display of casual superiority and power the other displayed, before turning a questioning look towards a much too pleased Akashi.

“I don’t think that was necessary, senpai,” Akashi commented slyly, his tone implying otherwise. Midorima simply cleared his throat supplying how he definitely didn’t want to be implicated in the whole affair, while Aomine simply looked an odd combination of fearful admiration. Even Murasakibara seemed somewhat interested in the appearance of the other boy as he for once stopped eating to comment:

“Ohh, Akachin is smiling! Eh, it must be because Nijimura-senpai finally got Haizaki to stop talking. It was upsetting my digestion. Sacchin too,” he added as an afterthought, his gaze shifting towards the smaller girl on his left. Momoi, as everyone shifted their attention towards her, simply dropped her smile, the pleased, confident grin on her face revealing way too much satisfaction and mischief at this turn of events, shifting towards sheepish, embarrassment and refined manners over her not so nice feelings winning against her vindictive pleasure.

And Tetsuya couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t a really obvious smile, or a happy smile; but it was a content smile arisen from a feeling of belonging that took him by surprise. He didn’t know when he had started feeling it, a sense of kinship, perhaps an unwilling attachment singularly stemming from Aomine’s forwardness and common fondness for the same sport. It didn’t make sense, because Tetsuya had never planned to incommode the first string with his presence, least befriend them, but here he was amused at Aomine’s teasing antics and Momoi’s worry, fond of Midorima’s quirks and Murasakibara’s insightful bluntness. And Akashi… well, Tetsuya wasn’t sure where Akashi fit into the picture, mysterious and elusive, enigmatic and admirable in a way that drew people in.

It was then he realised. He wanted to stay longer with these people, a reluctant party and odd company that simply turned into a constant in Tetsuya’s life.

The next thought was that _it was unfair._ An unfair cruel wish born out of his own inability that had firstly segregated him from the rest of the players, which had made him break an important promise to a special friend, a circumstance that changed simply because of Aomine’s kindness and support.

 _He wanted to play with them_ , not as an outsider tolerated out and accepted into their circle, but recognised as an important member and part of their group.

It was simply bittersweetly painful.

Any of that didn’t show on his face as he turned towards Akashi and teasingly commented on the other’s grin, “Akashi-kun, you look far too pleased with yourself. You make me wonder if something bad will befall on us all.”

In retrospect it wasn’t the best moment to join the conversation. Tetsuya simply forgot that people mostly tended to ignore his presence, and since it was the first-time meeting Nijimura he should have imagined the other would be surprised when he drew attention towards him. Unfortunately, he didn’t anticipate that or the degree of surprise his senpai would express, which resulted in the very complex situation in which Nijimura simply jolted halfway out of his seat away from Tetsuya and elbowing Haizaki in the ribs in his surprise. This resulted in the most regrettable situation of Haizaki somehow spilling his bento all over his lap and the floor in surprise as he bent over the table with a groan of pain.

It was all very unfortunate indeed.

The table was silenced by this new development before everyone spoke all at once. Momoi simply covered her mouth with both hands in shock – and of course it was surprise, there was no way she could feel _any_ other emotion but surprise at this scene, while Akashi simply barked out a laugh he tried to supress in a dignified manner, which only ended up in a fit of coughs and sniggers. Midorima looked completely befuddled before immediately closing his bento and putting it away, his hands resting nervously on his lucky item for the day, the snake still nicely coiled around his neck. Tetsuya could have sworn he muttered something about Cancer have a low ranking for the day, but he couldn’t be sure as Nijimura got out of his stupor to finally express his distress over Tetsuya’s sudden apparition.

“Oh my god, what the actual…,” and he perhaps remembered his position and never finished the sentence, his mouth closing with an audible click. Thankfully, in case anyone was wondering what Nijimura was asking, Haizaki finished the sentence for him, with a muttered ‘fuck’ under his breath, his arms covering his abused ribs as he seemed to want to glare the rice in his lap out of existence. Murasakibara seemed obviously distressed, and Tetsuya wondered if he was about to cry as he soulfully looked at the spilled bento.

“Kurochin, look what you did. You ruined the food!” he exclaimed most distressed. Aomine, surprisingly, seemed the most composed, and as his dark blue eyes met Tetsuya’s he shook his head in exasperation.

“Tetsu, I swear to god. I know you never let me live it down that I believed you were a ghost, but honestly, just who can top this!” Tetsuya thought whether to remark that he sounded way too pleased about the whole accident, but was distracted by Akashi going into a repressed laughing fit over the whole situation once more. The sigh was so utterly ridiculous, the dignified heir and first year prodigy was acting so unusually undignified, Tetsuya couldn’t help the smile that graced his lips and the other’s utter and honest amusement expressed in striking honesty.

“Just… who the hell are you?!” Nijimura asked perturbed still not regaining his previous position in his seat, his eyes taking Kuroko in bewilderment. “How long have you even been staying there!?”

Before answering, Tetsuya met Akashi’s gaze, mirth twinkling in their red depths, the now well familiar question making the other shake his head. Tetsuya couldn’t help the small sigh; he was sure Akashi anticipated this partially. Otherwise he would have introduced Tetsuya when he first had the chance. Perhaps, he should be mad, Tetsuya certainly hated this kind of awkward and unseemly situations, yet the other’s mischievousness was contagious, a bubbly sort of elation rising out the general confusion of the situation. It was unusual and unexpected, a sight he would have never associated with Akashi, a contrasting piece adding to his complex personality.

Tetsuya turned towards Nijimura and smiled. “I am Kuroko Tetsuya. I’ve been sitting here the whole time.”

Haizaki only groaned.

* * *

Needless to say, Haizaki didn’t grace their table with his presence for the following days. Or weeks. Tetsuya couldn’t really blame him really; the instances he had taken lunch with them had been most unfortunate indeed.

Instead Momoi became another usual presence at their table. When Aomine complained about this she simply stated it was to keep an eye on him since he was useless. Perhaps Tetsuya wouldn’t really call Aomine useless, but helpless wasn’t out of his book. If he were asked, he would’ve agreed that since Momoi joined their group Aomine starting eating better food – mostly because Momoi brought a proper bento from her mum for Aomine too – and sleep less during lunch – mainly because Momoi would make sure in any way possible that he would stay awake, and after an unfortunate incident involving juice after a lecherous joke, Aomine learned what true fear is, never mind putting up a manly front for his friends that he was not terrified of his small childhood friend.

Tetsuya grew fond of Momoi; she was smart and witty, and despite trying not to show it, knowledgeable in various subjects with a quick mind to match it. He knew Akashi noticed it too because he started engaging the girl in debates about different authors they had to study for their classes. Tetsuya found he had a lot in common with Midorima when it came to favourite authors when the other sporadically joined their debates. It came as no surprise Aomine loathed these conversations with only Murasakibara to entertain him and Momoi’s threat against sleeping. The days of their first year of middle school were slowly passing away, as the cherry blossoms were carried away by the warmer damper winds of late May, a flurry of green painting the scenery in contrasting shades before the rainy season fully settled with leaden muted tones.

Tetsuya found himself in a comfortable routine, and perhaps without wanting too – and just a tiny bit unwillingly so – he found himself thinking of his new acquaintances that were not quite his friends yet. If he were more honest, perhaps he would have admitted that he was loath to call them so by simply finding himself unfitting to be in their presence still, stars truck respect coating and halting his words in quiet silences and undecipherable smiles. Even so, he stayed with them, talked with them, laughed with them, ate with them, until he no longer thought of another place to belong to.

He wondered if the others knew of his thoughts of inadequacy, and perhaps they didn’t. Aomine was not perceptive enough, and the others didn’t spend as much time around Tetsuya to sense something was amiss. Yet, at times, red eyes underpinned him questioningly, scrutinising in a way Tetsuya quietly returned as an unsaid challenge right back trying to mask the feeling of utter transparency he experienced underneath that gaze. But Akashi never said anything, and Tetsuya started loathing the interest he seemed to have in the other boy, his curiosity turning like a persistent edge pushing him to want to ask more, to know more, unexplainedly so in moments he seemed to feel the other’s boy unsaid questions.

But those feelings were passing curiosities and nothing to linger on, and slowly Tetsuya started to forget he shouldn’t really belong to the first string’s table, that he had been invited in a space he shouldn’t yet have been allowed in.

All of it came crashing down one day in just as the calendar was turning its last pages towards June, as Nijimura joined their table for a specific conversation.

Nijimura joining them at times wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Tetsuya learned that he was more or less in charge of taking care of the new first-string members as newly appointed vice-captain. Babysitting as Aomine called it or supervising if you asked Midorima, simply because it was so unusual to have so many new first years players joining the first string.

Even so, when he joined them that day he seemed more troubled than usual, his hand mussing his hair in a characteristic display of thoughtfulness as he pulled a chair next to Akashi, sitting himself at the head of the table. It came as no surprise that every person at said table turned their attention towards their senior, his abject and unusual behaviour piquing their interest.

“Anything happened, Nijimura?” Akashi broke the silence with the question all the other first years wanted to ask. Nijimura only sighed and slumped in his chair, before his eyes scanned the table and took in the people sitting there.

“Yes, and no,” he responded, his hands coming to rest in his pockets as he sprawled backwards in his chair.

“Well, that was oddly enlightening,” Aomine commented around a bunch of karage stuffed in his mouth, and Tetsuya was unsure whether the stares were based on the fact Aomine dared disrespect their senpai or because he knew a word such as ‘enlightening’.

“Oi, mind your tongue, brat,” Nijimura snapped his foot kicking underneath the table and reaching with frightening accuracy Aomine’s shin, who yelped in response. Of course, having his mouth of food, it simply resulted in the amazing display of him choking on the food, to the utter disgust – shown by Midorima – and worry – mostly seen on Momoi’s face – of those seated around him. “Why are there even so many of you?” he grumbled. “I swear to god I was put in charge over 4 or 5 of you and you just keep multiplying.” If then he uttered ‘like a disease’, Tetsuya and Akashi who were the closest to him kindly chose to ignore it.

“Do you perhaps need some tea, Nijimura-senpai?” Tetsuya asked kindly, his heart going towards the brunet who had the task of being in charge of Aomine. _Daily._ Whoever managed to control both Aomine and Murasakibara in a training session deserved a heavenly prize and a holiday, Tetsuya concluded as he pushed an opened bottle of green tea towards Nijimura. The boy simply stared dumbly at the bottle for a few seconds, before his dark eyes met Tetsuya’s fair ones, seemingly startled. Then like a man that had never been offered anything before in his life Nijimura snatched the bottle, opening and downing it in an impressive display, before setting it down with a loud thump on the table, his eyes settling on Tetsuya once more.

“You.”

“Me?” Tetsuya repeated not knowing what the older boy was going to say.

“You’re a third string?” When Tetsuya nodded, Nijimura looked away sagely in simple contemplation before nodding to some unsaid thought. “Good. Make it to the first string, brat. You’re literally the least annoying and sane person I have ever met in this bunch of recruits, and god help me I need someone around that doesn’t have a hyperfixation with some odd thing.” Midorima looked affronted as the boy stared darkly at his carved bear statue.

“Thank you?” Tetsuya exclaimed most befuddled, not knowing exactly what exactly had transposed between the two of them but feeling as if he had suddenly joined some cult with the approval of their master. It didn’t help that the next moment Nijimura sullenly reached over and ruffled his light locks, his hand surprisingly big and heavy as it settled on the curve of Tetsuya’s head. “Captain’s orders,” Nijimura added, but even if his tone was still characteristically annoyed, he was half smiling towards the shorter boy.

Tetsuya was caught between the urge to flee and hide, and simply bask like a cat in the absolutely confusing display of affection coming from the older boy. Then his words registered, and he froze, his eyes turned towards Nijimura, at the same time as Akashi seemed to process the meaning behind his statement.

“Captain’s orders?” Akashi asked, seemingly uninterested in the subject as he ate, even as his eyes pinned Nijimura on the spot curiously. That drew everyone else’s attention, even Murasakibara’s who was very invested in his limited edition Pocky collection.

Nijimura only sighed and rubbed the back of his head, even as Tetsuya was still processing the words. Because of that it took him a few seconds to realise the older boy was _abashed_ , somewhat embarrassed by what he had just indirectly confessed.

“I suspect congratulations are in order?” Midorima asked, fixing his glasses, even as his face was still set in a displeased scowl while he brushed off crumbs Aomine had spat on his school uniform with his other hand.

“I guess,” Nijimura grumbled with as much enthusiasm as a man told he was about to die in a few days.

“You don’t look delighted about this,” Akashi pointed out conversationally, and even if he hadn’t spent daily lunches around the boy, Tetsuya could see the almost barely concealed manic amusement lurking in his red eyes, his hands barely holding his chopsticks from shaking with what could only be repressed laughter. Tetsuya had to give it to him; if it weren’t for the slowly forming shit-eating grin, Akashi could have passed it as a mild seizure and probably avoided Nijimura’s palm colliding with his face, as if he could physically erase the other boy’s mirth. As if violence was the funniest thing in the world, the gesture only made Akashi snap and succumb to his laughter fit he didn’t deem important enough to explain to the other confused people surrounding him.

“Oh, you go stuff it, cheap strawberry cosplay,” Nijimura stated and Aomine choked again, on his drink this time. Midorima only cursed and without any grace took his tray and went to sit next to Murasakibara on the other side of the table where Akashi was trying to control his laughter.

“You know what. I should just refuse it. I should simply give it up, and never see you odd people ever again,” Nijimura stated almost resigned, his eyes turning to the ceiling with the pain and knowledge of an old man that had suffered a great deal during his short life. “Besides you, Kuroko. You’re a delight, and we are glad to have you here,” Nijimura added as an afterthought, and Tetsuya simply thought if he was in the good graces of their new captain simply because he had acted as a portable juice dispenser.

“This is gold,” Akashi stated, and Tetsuya wanted to ask what the joke was.

“Shut it. Seriously Akashi, not even your status as a rich, pretty boy won’t help you if you don’t stuff it,” Nijimura growled.

“It isn’t like _I_ haven’t told _you_ ,” he commented rather smugly, and Nijimura groaned.

“Could you enlighten us all what is happening?” Aomine finally found his voice, not having understood much of the exchange around the table, simply preoccupied with not dying.

“Seeing as there is no need to hide it as here there are only members of the basketball club, and the news will be out shortly, I was appointed to be the new basketball captain,” Nijimura stated. Everyone turned at the same time towards Momoi who was simply eating primly a sandwich, and pretending she did not feel their gazes. “Oh right, Momoi is here too. Aomine, stop bringing your fanclub to the lunch table!” Nijimura stated as he realised his misshape. Oh, well, the news was bound to spread anyway.

“I do not have a fanclub!” Aomine snapped. “And I am not bringing anyone here… besides Testu. Satsuki only tagged along!” he defended, even as he accepted the cup of water Momoi offered him. The first string and Kuroko simply gave him a deadpanned glare at that.

“Mine-chin is lucky to have Sacchin to take care him,” Murasakibara stated what everyone else thought, while most people nodded in agreement, even as Aomine tried to deny it all with a sputter that was simply ignored.

“Actually,” Momoi interrupted any smart comeback her childhood friend might have. “ _You_ do have in fact a fanclub.” When she was met with only stares that ranged from blank – Midorima, Kuroko and Murasakibara – to shocked – Akashi, Nijimura and Aomine – she scoffed before setting her sandwich down, and turning towards the table with the air of someone that was about to explain a very detailed and complicated thing.

“It was started by Hanase-san, from third year, and it had gained quite a bit of popularity as a few second years joined both out of admiration, and by trying to get closer to Miriyama-san who recently obtained a modelling contract, thus being rumoured she could have a connection to the infamous Kise Ryouta, a first year who is a model and quite popular with the female population. After… well, hearing about Dai-chan is my friend and in the basketball and in the first string, the fanclub gained popularity with the first-year female population, gaining in total over 30 official members,” Momoi explained simply from memory as if she was citing some widely known historical fact. Tetsuya had no clue who half of these people were, and considering from the slight horrified and blank looks Nijimura and Aomine were shooting her, neither was more enlightened. “Afterwards, it became an official fanclub two weeks ago,” she finished taking a small sip of her drink, the image of feminine grace and knowledge only a master of the crafts and society could display.

Tetsuya worried about Aomine. He was getting redder by second and doing some sort of unholy imitation of a fish, before groaning and hiding beneath his hands.

“Why do you even know this?” he whined. Tetsuya leaned sideways over Midorima’s previous empty seat and patted his arm in mock understanding.

“Why do you _not_ know this?” she countered. Tetsuya did not comment on Akashi’s spark of interest in his eyes from across the table. “Anyway, it’s not like our school was even the _first_. To be honest, that’s quite insulting,” she grumbled. “Kamizaki Junior High had their first Aomine fanclub,” she explained, making Aomine headdesk. “You deeply impressed their power forward in your practice match at the beginning of the school year,” Momoi continued, and Tetsuya shivered at her saccharine smile that showed how much pleasure she took from thoroughly embarrassing her childhood friend. “Inoue-san was the founder, or so it is rumoured,” she added with a touch of sadistic cheerfulness.

Silence descended on the table, as everyone besides Aomine – who was busier trying to erase his own existence underneath the safety of his arms like some sort of amorphous turtle – was stunned into respectful and quite fearful silence. Then it was broken in the most unexpected way.

“You should be our manager,” Akashi stated simply, his hands folded beneath his chin as he leaned onto them, his eyes pining Momoi on the spot his lunch long forgotten.

“M-manager?!” both Momoi and Aomine exclaimed at the same time. “As in for the first-string?” Aomine continued forgetting his mortification in the face of the preposterous idea. (Obviously not out of fear, no, definitely not).

“Well, yes. I do not think I need to explain to anyone present the analytical talent Momoi-san has, or the expertise and abilities to gather information about everything. Considering we have an open position,” Akashi stated questioningly towards Nijimura who nodded in agreement, “we could use someone with her abilities, social and intellectual.”

“Wait a second, we can’t do that!” Aomine exclaimed.

“Why not?” Akashi countered. “She is talented, and could be an invaluable addition to the team. She would need only to mildly do the other managers’ job, since she would have to concentrate more on other tasks more useful for her skills,” he explained softly, his voice assured and definite.

“Well, then that would mean she would be with us here daily!” Tetsuya simply shot him a deadpan look at the ironic affirmation. “Officially, I mean!” he countered.

“Considering she has spent a lot of time since you were little together, she would also have knowledge about basketball, would you not?” Akashi pleasantly asked Momoi, his smile so polite and oozing charisma that Tetsuya wondered how he did not sparkle.

“Well… yes, but… This is a bit sudden…,” Momoi stammered, clearly flustered being under Akashi’s blown out charm.

“Of course, you do not need to accept it now. Think about it, Momoi-san,” Akashi gave in, the mask of courteous politeness. Tetsuya thought it to be deeply unpleasant, and shot the other boy a kick underneath the table. He was fond of Momoi, Akashi could very well use his influence on other targets. Even as his foot met his shin, Akashi never lost his smile, even as his red eyes met Tetsuya’s; he only mildly reacted at his action, the slight crinkling around his eyes, as he tried to fight a smile.

“Even so,” Midorima suddenly spoke having finally discarded his abused uniform jacket, “I do not see how this offer stands, Akashi. You do not have the authority to offer such a role,” he commented sensibly. Murasakibara reacted to the shock of the revelation by opening too suddenly his new packet of Pocky, a few sticks flying ungracefully on the table, thoroughly displeasing Midorima that had hoped to avoid any more food attacks.

“Well, the new captain is here!” Akashi chirped, ignoring the dour look his friend was shooting his way.

“Actually…,” Nijimura intervened, drawing all attention towards himself, having only listened to the madness that the lunch usually was at this table. “There was a second announcement I had to make.”

Instantly everyone sobered up, turning towards their senior with various degrees of curiosity. Murasakibara dramatically bit into a Pocky stick in the heavy silence that settled over the table.

“I have been named captain after, Nara-san retired from the basketball club this morning due to a family situation,” Nijimura explained.

“As I predicted,” Akashi spoke over his captain, only mildly concealing his smug grin.

“ _As you predicted_ ,” Nijimura all but growled shooting a withering glare towards his junior, who only smiled in return, clearly deriving from the other’s pain a big amount of joy. In the back of his mind, Tetsuya wondered whether he should reconsider his friendship with these people. “Because of that,” Nijimura continued hoping for no other interruption, “I require a new vice-captain, as I will be taking his previous position.” The words settled only for a moment, before Tetsuya slowly started to have a creeping realisation he knew which way this was going, his blue eyes snapping without wanting to towards the boy sitting across from him.

“As much as it pains me to even say this, Akashi, today-on, you’ll also be vice-captain,” he stated simply, as if he hadn’t just announced a monumental fact, his hand already stretching to steal the untouched green tea bottle on said redhead’s tray.

Tetsuya felt as if the moment was surreal, a piece of reality detached from the mundane, one of those moments that deceive the mind, leaving behind an ethereal spell. It was as if time had slowed, the world reduced only to the universe existing at their small table in the cafeteria, the noise drowned out in the background as he gazed in utter surprise in rapid succession from their senpai towards the boy sitting across from him at the table, his mouth agape in an undignified show of shock.

Akashi wasn’t fairing much better, sitting still with a clearly surprised look on his face, his eyes wide staring at Nijimura. It almost made Tetsuya want to laugh at the fact that someone that jokingly said he could foresee the future could be so surprised by this outcome, but any comment about that was drowned by a fluttery, unexpected tender feeling rising at the announcement. And as Akashi – if only for one second – let himself smile, a small honest, yet bashful smile, the smallest dusting of red in his cheeks showing his utter joy, Tetsuya could not help his own mouth curving upwards with an unsaid feeling of pride, comradery and support warming their way in his system uninvited. Yet, he could not deny, he was _happy_ for Akashi, for the other boy having his skill recognised and appreciated, some unexplained part of Tetsuya gloating at a victory that wasn’t his own.

And even so, as red met blue, something else slithered its way in Tetsuya’s heart. And even if Akashi’s smile was more guarded, yet not even a little bit less pleased as he accepted everyone’s congratulations, Tetsuya started feeling cold, an ugly feeling of restlessness and wrongness shattering the moment, destroying the quiet happiness shared between all of them.

_It made him feel nauseated._

To say Tetsuya was ashamed would have been an understatement, but as he looked at the table his mind only viciously reminded him how far ahead all these people were from him. How undeniably different they were, how he did not belong with them, not a first-string member, only an intruder standing around on their good will. And there was shame entwined with bitterness in some sort of scorching, tainted feeling, cooling his limbs and numbing his heart, poisoning the moment.

And Tetsuya hated it, hated himself, hated his own weakness as he gazed in the brilliance of Akashi’s fire burning brighter with his own tender feelings of pride at an accomplishment he clearly cherished, and he only wondered how could have he fooled himself even for a second thinking that he belonged to sit in the presence of these people. And even as he smiled in return, his heart twisted with pain, his teeth sinking bitterly as punishment behind his lower lip, as he promised himself he would not miss the chance he had been given.

That one day he would belong.

* * *

 

The dining room was veiled in deep aristocratic nuances, drawn in deep penumbras and shades of royal scarlet and mahogany. The atmosphere was solemn and stifling, the air thin even as Seijuurou knew the maids aired the room daily and carefully wiped any dust away, a heavy pressure against his shoulders as the clinking of the cutlery on the fine china gritted on his nerves with scalding impatience and irritability.

His childhood home was an imposing house at the outskirts of Kyoto, separated from Otsu by the high peaks of the eastwards mountains encircling Kyoto in their protective grasp. Unlike most houses it wasn’t traditional, his forbearers making sure the Akashi mansion and household was renovated before he had even been born. Yet, the indoors had been redecorated that the traditional atmosphere and tatamis were complimented by western architecture and convenience in a sentimental way that would’ve seemed an odd contrast and lack of style in anyone else’s household. His father had done so at his mother’s insistence, making sure to keep some of the original Japanese features in several rooms, even if the whole mansion seemed far more similar to the architectural styles seen in England and Germany.

Seijuurou could only think that the influence of the 19th century inspiration of his old family home seemed to make the place stifling, the rooms elegant and uncomfortable, with penumbras lingering inside each corner expectantly. Memories lingered everywhere, some sweeter than the others, unpleasant and unwilling reminders most times of things yet better passed, making him come to loathe the place.

His father had granted his insistence of going to study in Tokyo in middle school, and the pragmatic reasons he offered were only a partial façade of truth for the main feelings that had driven Seijuurou out of his family home. It had been too much, in a far too short period of time, the numbness seeping into his heart and soul, a creeping abyss to stop the tempest of feelings he did not want to feel.

It came as no surprise then that being back home for the third time since having started middle school was extremely unpleasant for Seijuurou.

He was not able to refuse his father’s summons or act against them, but even so, sitting in the same dining room in which they had had their weekly meetings for many years now in which Seijuurou simply stated his achievements for that week, was an unpleasant feeling, irritation creeping into his soul at his own helplessness of having achieved nothing to change this situation.

It was not that he _hated_ his father; on the contrary. But for a long time Seijuurou had yearned for independence, the events following the death of his mother making the air in his family home unbearable with ashy fog clogging his lungs in memories and regrets. Cowardly so, he had wanted to leave; and having been summoned for the third time in almost as many months back home annoyed him to no extent as his father simply seemed to work against defeating his initial purpose. Nevertheless, he complied – as always; Akashi Masaomi’s word was an absolute he dared not defy, now or ever, unpleasant as that may be – and came home each time.

“How are your studies going, Seijuurou?”

The voice startled him, his father having not spoken more than the initial greeting at having seen his son waiting for him in the dining room as he had commanded, keeping quiet as their meal was served and during it. Seijuurou, lost in his own thoughts, had dwelled little on the fact that the clinking of the cutlery had diminished. As he looked up from his meal his father was watching him intently, eyes not straying away from his son, unreadably piercing as he sipped from his wine glass. In the low dining room, the dark liquid looked like a pool of blood, the colour an odd compliment to Seijuurou’s own fiery eyes dancing reflected in his own polished glass.

“They are going well, father,” Seijuurou responded after a small moment of hesitation, and Masaomi’s eyes, even as they did not change indicated he had seen the falter in his speech. Seijuurou smiled placidly, morose and submissive, unwillingly falling back on patterns of behaviour he knew he had developed around his father, even as internally he cursed himself for his lack of attention knowing exactly what his father would understand out of this.

“Is that so?” Masaomi simply asked, and his voice was neither condemning or encouraging, and perhaps that was the reason why it made Seijuurou tense up all the more, hackles rising up unwillingly even as the situation did not regard such a response from him.

“Yes. My grades are perfect as always. I have become a member of the student council, and I am pretty confident they would allow me to be their vice-president after the summer holiday and the end of the first trimester,” Seijuurou continued unaffected all the same. Not wanting to keep the eye contact, he returned his attention casually to his dinner, extravagant food that simply he had not felt the taste off since the moment he had started eating it.

“I see,” Masaomi commented taking another sip of his drink. Still in his formal business suite, sitting at the other end of the table, Seijuurou expected the whole affair to be similar to a formal job meeting dinner his father must have had with one of their associates, not a simple catching up with his son. Masaomi’s responses were lacking and not giving, his quiet during dinner unsettling Seijuurou as much as the summon itself. He didn’t want to let it show, but he was starting to feel the trickling currents of nervousness rising, a sort of uncharacteristic agitation of his whole being, some sort of fuzzy feeling only his father seemed able to evoke in him.

Something seemed odd, and he didn’t like it, his instincts blaring with familiarity ominous warnings his logical mind was shutting down as irrational, even as nevertheless believed them bracing for an invisible impact.

In these circumstances dinner seemed even less appetising, so Seijuurou simply lifted the napkin from his lap signalling he was done with dinner as he wiped delicately at his mouth.

“That is good,” his father continued. “I am glad you are accommodating to life in Tokyo.”

Without wanting to Seijuurou thought of Teiko. Thought of his new room at the top floor of an apartment complex, airy and always lightened up by the big skyline windows overviewing the city, so unlike the dark atmosphere from his family home. Flashes of spread out notes and training regimes, of late night assignments, of colours and loud boisterous voices rising in a merry cacophony surrounded by the chaos of the mess hall. The friends he had made, as well as potential discoveries…

“Yes, I enjoy the city. It is very different from Kyoto, but it isn’t unlike I am completely unfamiliar with it.” Neither mentioned why he was familiar with the city, his mother having spent many days of treatment in the Tokyo hospitals. It had been how he had met Midorima after all. “I have made an interesting group of associates,” he stated warmly, even as on the inside a feeling of hurt betrayal arose at having to call his friends as such, Masaomi having made it very clear long ago what he thought about the relevance of foolish relationships, “each of them owning interesting set of skills.” Without wanting to, his mind wandered towards a certain blue haired boy, thought of a dry humour and a low presence, and almost left out a chuckle imagining how useless Masaomi would consider an association and Seijuurou’s – as Midorima pointed out – keen interest in the other boy. Talented as Kuroko may be, and even witty as he was, he was a commoner, and not even a special one at that. Even so, Seijuurou treasured the other’s presence in their group, an addition of pragmatic chaos and intelligence that seemed to draw him in no matter how many times he reminded himself it was foolish.

“Are you still in contact with the young Midorima boy?” his father asked straight to the point, and Seijuurou nodded, even as he bit down the need to add that Midorima, after so many years of strained contact under perilous circumstances, was someone Seijuurou deeply trusted and considered a friend. As such, there was no way, at least on his part, at the moment not to be in contact with the other boy.

“Yes, we are part of the same club, even as we are in different classes. Thus, we do spend a lot of time together,” Seijuurou answered absentmindedly playing with his own glass.

“Oh? And what club is that?” his father enquired, making Seijuurou shoot him a suspicious gaze.

“I have told you last time we saw that I was thinking of joining the basketball club.”

“How convenient indeed then that Teiko has one of the best teams in the country when it comes to middle school basketball,” Masaomi commented shrewdly, making Seijuurou’s hand freeze on the rim of the glass he was tracing, a panicked cold feeling spreading through his bones all the way to his heart that squeezed painfully in his chest. He tried not to show how bewildered he was, as his red eyes met Masaomi’s brown ones – identical if not for the colouring – his breath stuttering with unwilling weakness as he realised his father _knew._

“Relax, Seijuurou, I am not going to forbid you from participating in your club activities,” Masaomi said all at once, not even bothering to hide he read his son like an open book. Try as he might, Seijuurou had never been able to hide when his father made him uncomfortable, even as he put on the best most careful thought out mask. At his words, Seijuurou relaxed momentarily, the earlier surprise and panic enough to let him reel with relief at the words. Still…

“You knew?”

“That you chose Teiko as a school because of their sportsmanship renown too? Of course,” Masaomi implied on the same tone of voice that one would use to state the colour of the grass. “It is a good school. I did not see any reason why you should not apply to it, even as your reasons were not whole-heartedly academic,” his father stated, and his eyes put Seijuurou on the spot in an unsaid scold for the boy, making the temporary feeling of relief he felt disappear. “I honestly cannot imagine why you thought I wouldn’t know that,” his father commented casually, airily, almost uncaring, but Seijuurou had to force himself not to cringe or show how well he understood the weight of the words thrown at him.

“I am sorry for trying to deceive you, father,” he finally uttered as a response. His father did not acknowledge his apology instead taking another sip from his drink before continuing.

“You are my heir, Seijuurou,” he continued, and Seijuurou wanted to scoff at how aware he was of that particular fact. “It is very important for an Akashi man to be skilled in all domains. Business isn’t just the superiority of thought and mind over numbers. Arts. Humanistics. Philosophy. Politics. Languages. An Akashi man must show prowess in all domains if we are to continue our rule in this day and age. Failure it is not an option, that includes sportsmanship. What is a mind without a body?” Masaomi stopped talking to look at Seijuurou, setting his glass down in the table. The sound resounded around the quiet room with a muted definitive thud. “Granted basketball wasn’t the sport I would’ve chosen for you, but as long as you _proficient_ at it, I do not see any objection of you continuing it.”

“I am,” Seijuurou rushed to add. “Just this week my senpai came to talk to me how I will be named vice-captain.” He stopped from adding how it was unheard off, how privileged and honoured he was to be vice-captain of the first string in his first year.  Masaomi would’ve seen all that simply as begging, a desperate sort of self-indulgent bargaining. But Seijuurou couldn’t back down – _would not_ back down on this. He would never admit it, but he was desperate, hoping his father would not forbid him from playing, the thin ice of their conversation cracking precariously as he stepped closer and closer to what he could see was the main purpose of this meeting.

“I do enjoy the sport,” he decided on saying. “It is not what one would expect, but it’s more strategic parts please me so. It is interesting to try to apply what I had learned from shogi as a strategy, while accurately using your teammates strengths to your advantage.”

 _‘It is my legacy,’_ he wanted to say instead. _‘It my mother’s legacy for me,’_ but he could never say that particular argument. Seijuurou could only imagine how displeased his father would be hearing of his passed wife.

“I see. Well, like I said I have nothing against it,” Masaomi concluded, and Seijuurou could almost sag in relief even as he knew he couldn’t do that yet. “I have summoned you to talk about this today, Seijuurou. I will be leaving the country for the following months and had wanted to clarify… this matter. I trust that you will be able to handle yourself as long as I am gone,” and Seijuurou took the opportunity to change the subject from himself.

“America, father?”

“Yes. We are finalising the deals of assimilating their company with ours, and unfortunately, I will have to be present as the deal is finished and for the first weeks as the company stabilises. I do not trust anyone to do this besides me,” he said pointedly and Seijuurou could sigh at the fact he was being taught still even in these circumstances. The dinner had been tiring and stressful and at this point he only wanted to retire.

“I see. There would no problems here on my account,” he finished.

“Well, in any case, you have your butler, driver and maid to take care of you,” Masaomi concluded and started showing he was about to get up and leave – probably to go and work some more into his office. Seijuurou took his cue that he was dismissed and shortly, trying to appear casual, got up from his chair, leaving behind the remains of his dinner for the maids to deal with. As he slowly nodded to his father who was still watching him intently he turned around to walk out of the grand doors of the dining room to his room, he felt relief wash over him, his body beginning to relax from its tensed state.

Just as he was about to leave the room Masaomi called after him:

“Oh, Seijuurou?”

“Yes, father?” Seijuurou turned around and asked, his face impassive even as he tried to contain his annoyance at being stopped from leaving once more.

Masaomi only watched his son for a few moments. His eyes were unreadable, had always been so for Seijuurou for far too many years now, until the sight of them being understandable was a lost memory underneath the fog of more prominent memories. Father and son simply watched each other, one a smaller copy of the other in vibrant scarlet colouring before Masaomi spoke again.

“I think I do not need to remind you.”

“Remind me what exactly, father?”

“That you playing around in basketball comes with conditions,” Masaomi stated simply, and Seijuurou’s heart broke, because even as he had hoped that it wouldn’t be so, from their conversation he knew it was in vain. Masaomi never made deals without a catch, always driving his own plans for Seijuurou’s future ahead of any personal and insignificant wishes the boy had.

“Of-of course,” Seijuurou admitted slowly, and his eyes were expecting, silently asking for the deal’s conditions.

“Winning is everything, Seijuurou. Winning in life means winning on all accounts. That means academically, socially and physically,” his father stated simply, the words making the meaning very clear. “You will not lose, Seijuurou. This thing… well, you can do it as much and for as long as you like it. Until you lose. You do not need distractions, and if this proves to be a distraction, then that means it is no longer beneficial to you.”

Seijuurou felt several things in that moment, many he could name, several he could not, a mix of complex emotions ragging inside as he impassively listened to his father. It was not far from what he had expected, but even so, hearing it made it no different, quenched no less the fury and helplessness he felt.

_Fail in school, and you will lose, his father had said._

_Lose in the sport itself, and you will lose._

_Lose and you will no longer be allowed to play basketball._

The conditions were clear, predictable even, and completely within his expectations. It was irrational for Seijuurou to feel angered so. Yet he did, a storm coursing through his veins as his jaw tightened trying to hold in any words that would simply be detriments towards his situation borne out of an irresponsible emotional response.

He had the means to keep basketball in his hands. Everything lay on him, the pieces placed on his board, the moves at his disposal. There was no need for him to feel angry or panic. It was simply the natural order for Akashi Seijuurou not lose anyway.

“I understand,” Seijuurou said, and at Masaomi’s dismissive nod, he finally left the room.

* * *

“Congratulations for making vice-captain.”

The words struck Seijuurou out of his stupor, his eyes flickering in surprise towards the other person at the table. It didn’t happen often for Seijuurou not to be able to locate Kuroko, but at times he was just as oblivious to his presence as the others, a fact that greatly irked him for several reasons, a combination of feeling as if _he_ should know better combined with manners long ingrained in his behaviour. Yet, today, as he had been lost in thoughts he simply missed the moment the other boy seated himself at the table across from him.

He had been alone, having left his classroom earlier than usual, the heaviness of his thoughts making him reluctant to seek company in the short span of time before all the first strings members gathered at the table for lunch. The conversation with his father lingered heavily, and Seijuurou would have been lying if there wasn’t an unwanted uneasiness coursing through his veins, tingly and restless, a toxic perfume of worry and fear.

“Sorry. I do not think I caught what you said,” Seijuurou apologised even as half of himself was not there, lost in thoughts and possibilities. It was not an unusual feeling, the detachment, the thinking outside himself as well as on the inside, attention spawned over dimensions of emotions unavailable to most. As Kuroko’s blue eyes met his, a slight frown marring his features Seijuurou couldn’t stop feeling a familiar oddness. A part of him was definitely present in the cafeteria, somewhat amused even by Kuroko’s uncharacteristic scowl, feeling somewhat sheepish for having ignored even unknowingly the other boy; then a part of him was not there, mind reeling with transient, fast thoughts more elusive than smoke, fragments of memories he wished forgotten flashing alongside a multitude of possibilities from the present and the future. The relativity of one’s being was indeed amusing, the presence could one have in a room while completely being submerged in thoughts, removed from it all, yet while still being conscious of it all, a disconnect between the facetious reality while painfully living it, only in the way a calculating and highly intuitive person could.

It would be an understatement to say Seijuurou felt distracted that day, and the part of him not supressed with leaden heaviness could feel slightly ashamed and embarrassed from his lack of tact.

“I simply congratulated you for making vice-captain, Akashi-kun,” Kuroko repeated slowly, the words mellow and candid, kind in their honesty, blue eyes shining expectantly with pride and admiration.

The congratulations made Seijuurou pause, unknowingly being snapped out of his own thoughts completely to take in the other boy.

Over the years many people had told him similar words; having his successes acknowledged was a second demand of nature for someone like him, not a privilege. Most people would assume – and rightly so – that Seijuurou would have made vice-captain and more. It was his duty not be anything lesser after all, there was simply no way for him _not_ to succeed. Since the moment he had been born his standing had granted him this kind of demand and reassurance. And people have delivered indeed many words of admiration for his successes that had slowly turned sour, crystalline remarks over his intelligence and drive into bitter congratulations of people that slowly dripped with envy, murkiness infiltrating into their words. Of course, their words were true; his accomplishments were no less admirable because of who he was or for continuously achieving his goals, but it had been a long, long time since someone had offered the kind of sincere words Kuroko Tetsuya mindlessly just uttered for him.

Seijuurou was not dumb; or he assumed his intelligence was a bit higher than the average. He was not ignorant to the fact the other boy had absolutely no reason for saying his superfluous congratulations. He didn’t know when he became assured of this fact, but it had happened long ago – he knew that Kuroko Tetsuya was not the normal person gathering around him for his attention in school, not one of the deviously minded girls vying for his favours. And by not being the child of a person usually present in the higher circles of the Japanese society in which business relationships formed before even the world itself was started for the following generation, it was out of question that Kuroko could have ever vied for his favour in any way in that regard.

Seijuurou could not understand, and his dumb folded face probably let on as much since Kuroko looked a bit abashed and awkward at the pause that followed his words in which Seijuurou so kindly gapped stupidly at the other boy. Yet, he could not stop himself, the honesty of the situation rendering him speechless, in a way he would not normally would have been. In a way, maybe, he could blame it on his recent interaction with his father, or perhaps on the vulnerability he felt starting to coil around himself, either way it did not matter. Seijuurou could not stop the warmth spreading inside his chest at one of the sincerest displays of admiration he had ever received… in quite a long time, shortly followed by an inexplicable bitter hurt, a mellow pain of years passed that made his breaths leaden and fingers curl into fists underneath the table.

“I… Thank you very much, Kuroko,” Seijuurou smiled after he found his voice, and Kuroko didn’t exactly smile in return, but his eyes twinkled with relief and happiness. Seijuurou almost wanted to ask the other boy why, just why he was so happy for Seijuurou, a person he had barely known for a few weeks, a straightforward display he hadn’t remembered receiving for so long after his mother’s passing.

“Did the whole school find out by now?” Seijuurou joked, as Kuroko simply rolled his eyes as if the question wasn’t even worth answering.

“Everyone in the basketball team no matter the string knew when Nijimura-senpai made the announcement,” Tetsuya simply explained. “I am glad,” he confessed softly, and Seijuurou had no idea how to answer such a statement. “Akashi-kun might be a first year, yet I am sure that he would make a good vice-captain in a way that it could only strengthen our team and drive us closer together,” the lighter-haired boy continued as his eyes moved towards his bento, small embarrassment making him unable to hold the other’s gaze in an unusual display of meekness. Seijuurou felt his breath choke on the next exhale, as his earlier thoughts returned stronger and heavier.

_Worthy, worthy, he was unworthy. Not enough. Not yet near enough. One failure, a mistake and would lose it all. Lose it all._

_Perhaps enough if he could see and think. He knew his own strength; it was enough._

_And what if it wasn’t?_

_It was enough. There was no way he was not enough. He was Akashi Seijuurou. He would not lose._

_He could not lose._

_He would not lose._

“How can you be so sure of that,” Seijuurou simply asked, the spiral of his mind turning and spinning further down, thoughts rolling upon each other as his face reflected an enquiring smile. Kuroko stopped fiddling with his lunch and simply looked up to meet Seijuurou’s eyes.

“Do you doubt you will be a good vice-captain?” the boy teased, even as his eyes were seriously considering him. Seijuurou only shrugged even as his mind raged with inexplicable panic, the weight of expectations heavy on his shoulders, as Kuroko expressed his faith in him. All of a sudden losing meant not only disappointing his father and himself, losing his passion and image in front of everyone else, but also shattering the trust that was placed on him he realised, not only from Kuroko but from Nijimura and so many other people that have acknowledged his skill above his seniors that have for so long strived to achieve his position.

And failed.

_Why do you care. You needn’t care._

_I do not care. There is nothing to care for. Or it shouldn’t but there is._

_Why do you care? There isn’t anything you cannot achieve._

_What if there is?_

“Why would you put so much faith in my abilities?” Seijuurou joked back even as his thoughts turned and twisted painfully, the spiral tightening and compressing around him, almost suffocating, mingled self-doubt and desperation and fear with self-assured determination and arrogance, a cacophony of sounds battling for dominance in his stance, glimpsing to the outside world with a sharp, expecting smile. It spun and spun, a cascade of possibilities and scenarios, thoughts and fears constricting in his chest as he stubbornly bated them away with what he knew about himself, yet simply coming back reinforced, a storm raging a tempest with no start or no end as his dual nature fought for an unreachable agreement.

Kuroko simply frowned, his eyes still set on Seijuurou’s as the redhead stared back expectantly, challenging the other in a way he did not know he wanted to until then. It was clear the blue-haired boy in front of him realised his question was leaded with something more than he let on. Unfortunately, Seijuurou himself could not say what that was, or why harshness seeped slowly through the cracks of his conviction in response to the baffling kind words he received.

“Akashi-san should not joke like this,” Kuroko simply stated after a small moment of hesitation. “There is _no way_ for me not to have faith in his abilities.” As Seijuurou raised an eyebrow at the proud statement, he continued. “After all, Akashi-san sees the abilities in us all, the strengths and potential we all have if only _we tried harder_. Someone that could convince someone as weak as me to find a way to continue playing basketball has no right doubting his abilities as a captain,” Kuroko finished hotly, some unsaid irritation permeating his words, shards of crystal conviction that nonetheless cut deeply through the murkiness of Seijuurou’s troubled mind in their unexpectedness.

It was like that when the rest joined them, Seijuurou’s surprised laugh turning all the attention towards him, making them pay little mind to Kuroko’s fierce glare directed at the amused redhead. The oddness of the display asked for all their attention, even as Seijuurou’s eyes never left Kuroko’s, a slight shake of his head and a sigh being the only response he allowed to Kuroko’s words as their private conversation bubble was ruined by the presence of the others’ company. Nevertheless, Kuroko simply glared as if reinforcing his previous statement before joining the others once more to offer his congratulations towards Seijuurou’s making vice-captain, the private warmth he previously displayed with his heartfelt words missing in his public statement that he previously hadn’t offered when Nijimura firstly told them, a fact that Seijuurou had dully too note of.

And surprisingly enough the argument slowly seemed to settle Seijuurou’s mind… at least for the time being.

From across a table, Kuroko Tetsuya simply kept surpassing each and every one of his expectations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up at my writing blog nodaski.tumblr.com or my main deyanirasan.tumblr.com!


	4. Diffident Conversations and Fractured Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seijuurou wanted to dismiss the words. He wanted to dismiss them all in a fit of anger born out of humiliation but the worry in Kuroko’s voice was genuine it scratched an ache so deep that Seijuurou felt his breath stutter for a second. It was unfair. The whole day was unfair, and he was not one to say this often being as blessed as he was, but even his life was unfair. And it was then that Seijuurou learned one more important thing.
> 
> Kuroko Tetsuya was the most unfair of them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This is quite a late update, but I had a bit of a struggle writing this chapter, combined with real life. My main concern was getting Akashi right in this chapter, so I do hope I finally got him right for you guys to enjoy.
> 
> Also, considering some of the themes of KnB in canon, some touchier subjects will slowly be start to be touched upon, hopefully in a manner that is true to the canon story. I will make sure to put a trigger warning just in case at the beginning of the chapter when it's necessary, so please check that out. 
> 
> This chapter is not very fast, so apologise for that, but I do hope you will still enjoy the interactions in this, which would finally be the main intrigue of this story. Afterwards, the plot will start gaining speed (I hope, please), so bear with me! Also in case someone was wondering how I am going to fit 3 years of Teiko in this, I will not. This stops after a certain point in the first year, so we will have to look towards part two for Kise and other events (T_T I miss my sunshine). Comments and thoughts are deeply appreciated, especially since my life is kind of hectic and it is hard to find the energy most days to spend it on writing. Please enjoy!
> 
> Also please let me know if you guys would like a Midorima/Akashi first meeting I have hinted in some of the chapters before, as a small stand-alone one-shot. I am finding myself drawn to sketching that chapter, which unfortunately would not fit with the overall progression of the fic.
> 
> TW: Mentioned anxiety attack and descriptions of a panic attack.

The rainy season came slowly with a lingering scent of cherry trees that slowly gave way to the monotone greyness with faded colours of the storms. And just like that, the world dulled in its insignificance, lacklustre with an almost oppressive feeling of boredom permeating the air.

It was surprising one would think that a weather suffocating underneath a continuous downpour would have its own merits, but even as the background and colours faded in between drops of rain, the earth and nature stood out, a striking picture of intense life with vibrant shades of greens and maroons as an antithesis to the unsurprising melancholy that clung to the world.

Because of that many outdoor activities were cancelled, and most students seemed more asleep than awake, walking in a daze to their classes and back, bewitched by a spell of lethargy that clung to their skin unable to be washed out even as they walked into the never-ending torrent at the end of the day to go home. Umbrellas bloomed like lost artificial petals as the school emptied each day after classes, a march of a dispersed rainbow spreading across the concentrate like broken marbles.

And each day after classes, the school seemed emptier and quieter, bored students all too willing to go home and forget about the lethargy the rain seemed to instil in their veins, pleasant activities of different clubs forgotten in the face of such an ardent wish.

The silence stretching over Teiko didn't bother Tetsuya, even as the loneliness seemed alike an oppressing force in the infinite stillness that followed his echoing steps as he walked down empty corridors cast in penumbras. There was no place for him to rush to, no haven to hide in, but there was nothing to run from either as his blue eyes took in grey clouds and vibrant greens. The whole scenery had a quiet, solemn tranquillity, and if it weren't for the fact he wasn't able to play basketball as much anymore he wouldn't have cared much about the weather. As it was, his steps echoed in the distant stillness of the school halls each day after class, his mind lost in between fragments of thoughts with no real meaning and possibilities that would not take form, his own personal brand of a rainy spell.

Tetsuya didn't expect to see many people around as he mostly wandered aimlessly around, his thoughts whirling in circles. Not that most people would have observed him even if he was. Perhaps, it was because of that why he failed to notice the classroom he retreated in was occupied, least the person occupying it until it was too late.

Akashi looked up at him with wide eyes, clearly surprised in a comical way that would have been funny if Tetsuya wasn't just as shocked at seeing the other. Almost without wanting to, his hands gripped the book he was holding around his chest as he felt his cheeks burning the longer the other boy continued to gape at him, the awkward silence stretching in an impasse only disturbed by the distant patter of rain on the windows.

Thankfully, Akashi found his bearings easier than Tetsuya, simply looking away with a cough that snapped the other boy out of his stupor. Hoping he wasn't blushing, he explained:

"I thought the room was empty," he said bashful, feeling the weight of his empty words. Thankfully, Akashi didn't say anything sending the other a small open smile.

"So did I," he joked. "That was the reason I came hiding here."

"Oh, I am sorry then," Tetsuya continued still very much flustered at having walked upon Akashi like this, even if the other didn't seem to be doing much but stare at a shogi board, and apparently _hide_. Holding back the urge to ask why the other would be hiding - and no, Tetsuya _was not_ curious at all - he continued speaking. "I'll be going then, I didn't mean to disturb...," but was stopped as Akashi raised one single hand.

"You were not," he explained, and Tetsuya almost didn't believe the slight tinge of sheepishness in his voice. "I didn't assume anyone would be here after classes and simply wanted a quiet place to practice..."

"It is fine, Akashi-kun, I wasn't planning to be here either, I only wanted to find a place to read without the book club hunting me down to join them..."

They both stopped almost at the same time, their eyes meeting as the barrage of explanation died on both their lips. It was ridiculous, and they realised just how silly the situation really was, Akashi letting out a derisive laugh.

"Well then," Akashi started as his red eyes full of mirth fixed on Tetsuya's blue ones. "Then perhaps we could share? We wouldn't want Kuroko to have to spend his free time dodging the book club as they try to steal him from us."

"I doubt the book club president would be very aware of my presence even if he did pass by me," Tetsuya joked right back, even if his hands were tingling with nerves and excitement. Nevertheless, he crossed the distance between the two of them taking a sit in front of Akashi who was still studying him with an inexplicable but amused emotion on his face. "And I doubt I would be too bigger of a loss to the basketball club even if they did try," he commented drily as he placed his book on the table next to Akashi's board.

Akashi didn't say anything to this, his eyes keenly trained on Tetsuya, his gaze shamelessly looking for something on his face before frowning slightly, though his expression remained pleasant. Whatever he discovered he didn't share, instead idly taking a piece off the board and playing with it between his fingers as he gathered his thoughts.

"You know none of us think that, right?" he asked softly, his kind and empathetic words hurting Tetsuya more if the other had declared he was indeed worthless.

"As much as I appreciate Akashi-kun's kindness, I do not appreciate pity," Tetsuya responded simply, trying to keep his composure at the other's keen but truthful bluntness that played exactly on the same note that his thoughts had mindlessly been spinning on since the beginning of the school year. "We all know a third string player is not that important to the basketball team as a whole. If I did leave, it wouldn't make much of a difference," he explained casually, slowly, the hurt and bitterness a cutting edge in his chest and throat, a keen pain born out his own unwanted helplessness.

Akashi simply stared for a while, his previous smile fading away slowly and completely, only to be replaced with a deeper frown. Under his direct scrutiny, the room seemed darker as if the clouds had become heavier, outside the onslaught of the storm ranging stronger. It made Tetsuya uncomfortable in a vulnerable way, not knowing what the right way was to react to Akashi's surprising mood change.

"Why would you think your basketball is useless? I didn't need to know you to see how much you loved it," Akashi finally asked.

Tetsuya only smiled sadly, a bitter smile of acceptance. "You can't make something truly right just by loving it," he mused. "You have also given me a chance to change that," he added immediately after. And a challenge, was left unsaid.

"And?" Akashi asked, raising an eyebrow expectantly, demanding and pushing all at once, not denying the other's weakness with coddling, yet clearly not being deterred in the regard he held for him.

Tetsuya smiled. "And I think Akashi-kun is getting impatient," he joked, and Akashi merely chuckled, with both mirth and admission, not denying these blunt words either.

"Why are you here, Kuroko?" he asked as he set down the piece of shogi he had been playing with for the past few minutes, the wood hitting the board with a small clink. Tetsuya raised an eyebrow at the obvious change of subject, before allowing it.

"I could ask the same, Akashi-kun," he stated simply, his gaze pointed telling the other he had no problem reading the situation and finding it unusual that someone like Akashi would be hiding after class in an empty classroom.

Akashi simply raised an eyebrow in a very good imitation of his previous display of mistrust hearing Tetsuya’s blunt questioning, even if Tetsuya's momentary rudeness seemed to amuse him more than anything. Realising his faux pas, Tetsuya felt his cheeks redden once more, his clumsiness in front of the other boy being more than a bit humiliating. Unfortunately, he had often found that around Akashi his composure seemed to turn into dust only to be scattered across the room, his wits leaving him to deal with the other boy all on its own.

"I simply don't have any place to rush to," Akashi finally admitted. "I live alone, and as most club activities are postponed, so I don’t see any reason to rush to a home that's entirely empty."

Tetsuya felt a rush of kinship with those words. "Me too," he blurted in admission. "I don't have anyone waiting for me at home either," he explained at the Akashi’s confused glance.

"I thought you were a native of Tokyo and thus were living with your family?" Akashi asked confused at the blurted confession. The question obviously made Tetsuya shift in his seat, even if he answered it just a moment later, his voice collected.

"Yes and no. Yes, I have lived in Tokyo most of my life, but I am not living with my parents as they have divorced when I was young. My father didn't feel prepared to fully take care of me all by himself, so I had been sent to my in-laws, and I am currently living with my grandmother."

After his explanation Akashi was quiet, his face undecipherable and cloudy, similar to the storm outside. It was intense and honest, a look Tetsuya couldn't fully classify beyond the slight tingling it sent down his nerves as it made him think once more of the first immersion he had gotten about the boy sitting in front of him as being an enigma, an intense storm caught in human form unable to be fully understood by most people. Yet, even so, there was something infinitely interesting about Akashi, a magnetic pull that drove people to want to orbit around him, the same way people tended to want to watch thunder strike out in a storm, electrifying and amazing, unordinary and completely untamed.

It made no sense for Tetsuya the interest he held for this boy, and why he wanted to know more, even as he was sure that Akashi had already seen depths of his soul he wasn't even aware existed with his piercing gaze. But in the end, it did not matter; the spark of curiosity - _everything_ \- had already been ignited the moment Akashi had first spoken to him. And as most things in life, it did not make sense the way he simply felt a connection to a boy that seemed so unlike him but try as he might he couldn't shake the sense of rightness he had as they talked, a deeper understanding that transcended words common conventions.

It was a fallout, and Tetsuya felt as if he was tumbling deeper and deeper, a headlong race downwards into a spiral the same way the rain tumbled and splattered upon the ground.

"And Akashi-kun?" he asked almost shyly after he finished talking. And despite everything - as a fact he would normally deny it - Tetsuya was a proud being, his self unchanged by social conventions and expectations he felt little regard to most times in their obstinate ridiculousness. He knew there was nothing to feel ashamed about, he had never felt so before, but as he had presented his own condition to Akashi he felt oddly unfit, the other boy of a superior standing in all regards. It made Tetsuya consider that perhaps for many others his family could have been seen as something shameful, disgraceful, and he hated the trepidation he felt in regard to Akashi’s opinion in such a matter. "Why does Akashi-kun live alone?" he asked, trying to either change the subject or seek some affirmation.

"Oh," Akashi exclaimed, as if snapped out of a thoughtful daze, "well I am originally from Kyoto." At Tetsuya's raised eyebrow he sighed and grumbled.

"Yes, that does mean I have the accent. Thankfully, I grew out of it," he admitted with a pained expression, and Tetsuya couldn't help his snort at the Akashi's very obvious embarrassment.

"Prove it," he provoked, making Akashi roll his eyes.

"Real mature, Kuroko," he commented drily.

"Would it actually help if I begged?" Tetsuya wondered out loud, at the same time trying to pull his best impersonation of Aomine's puppy eyes, not that he thought it would work. To his surprise, Akashi simply looked as if he were in immense pain before speaking in a rushed and very energetic Kyoto-ben, so unlike himself that it seemed almost surreal.

"Didja re'lly 'ave to makemya do this?" he asked, at the same time gesturing his exasperation. Tetsuya couldn't help it; he burst out laughing, his hands coming up to muffle his mirth and miserably failing despite his best intentions, as he bent over in his amusement. Akashi pretended to be hurt, shaking his head in admonishment, though a small smile was tugging at his lips, clearly pleased with this reaction.

"Anyway," he continued, while Tetsuya was still trying to muffle his laughter. "My father agreed with me going to school in Tokyo, and I considered it a good way to gain independence."

But there was some slight unease behind his words, something too collected and planned in fake casualness, leaving Tetsuya to think there was slightly more to the story. Not wanting to linger on a subject the other did not wish to speak of, he asked: "And your mother agreed to this too?"

Akashi's answering smile could only be described as haunted, a darkening of his soul in a mask of ease that continued only mirthless pain.

"My mother had passed away when I was younger," he admitted softly, a caressing whisper of a painful confession that was just on the edge of tender honesty and complete agony. And Tetsuya felt his breath catch in his throat, the pang of regret already twisting his heart painfully; but he knew from the fragile composure Akashi displayed he would neither appreciate nor accept his sympathy, not over this particular matter anyway.

"I am sorry," he still insisted on saying, hoping the other would understand more than what the simple words expressed. Yet, after such an admission the conversation dulled between them, the simple link of companionship severed brutally by the harsh confession. The ringing of the rain was a mocking pattern of a victory song from a cruel fate, and the only sound heard between two souls that were suddenly caught in a standstill.

Akashi gracefully accepted his apology with a simple nod. "It is okay," he said, though it wasn't, and both of them were aware of the fact, the time slowly dragging in the abandoned classroom isolated from an evermoving world by a dense curtain of rain, the bleakness of the world complementing their conversations.

Not many words were said after such an admission, silence slowly taking over as Akashi became engrossed in his shogi board, and Tetsuya took it as a sign to pay attention to his book. He thought perhaps he had messed up somehow, but at some point, in the evening he realised he had forgotten about the previous heaviness between them - which was foolish - Akashi's silent company amiable and comfortable in a subtle way.

And as they left much later in the evening he thought this would be a onetime thing, something akin to a simple tolerance from the other of his presence. He knew it had been simple circumstance which had brought them together so, and as Akashi at lunch the next day made no comment over their previous evening, Tetsuya made peace with the idea it had been a singularity, a simple glitch of the universe, one of those unfathomable twists of the world. In retrospect, he should have known better than that, as after school while he wandered the empty halls, which were nothing more than a hollow shell lacking the former life it held in the mornings, a fate that seemed to happen to all buildings when empty, he once more stumbled upon Akashi in the same classroom as before. Akashi who looked casually composed even as he had not started his game yet, as if he had been waiting for Tetsuya, a fact the blue haired boy could almost imagine to be true as the redheaded boy waved him over with an graceful smile. A dream that lasted for a day.

And the day after.

And the day after that too.

* * *

"Why shogi?" he couldn't help but ask one day, his eyes unable to concentrate on the words as they kept slipping to unnamed dance of push and pull of the confusing pieces on the board. Akashi seemed momentarily stumped not having expected the question.

"Why do you read books?" he finally countered, and Tetsuya's mouth curled into a knowing smile at the small challenge he found in those words, a thing they now did. If one wanted to know the truth, the other demanded the same right back, a metaphorical fight that sent a thrill through Tetsuya.

"It is an escape and an adventure. There is something pleasurable in the unknown and the connection found by reading a book," Tetsuya gave in and explained.

"Shogi had been one of the first games I have learned from my mother," Akashi also answered after, even as his eyes moved back to the table to move another piece. "The second one being basketball. It has its own thrill, something born out of the absolute control a player must exert on the board. The game is a metaphor for life, a unique partitioning of the available power that reflects the player's own style and skill. Still, I would argue real life is so much messier than a shogi game; after all real life doesn't follow any rules at all."

Tetsuya tried to not give away how much it still pained him to hear about Akashi's mother. Instead he teased, seeing the other did not want to make a big deal of the admission. "Akashi-kun's controlling tendencies are showing," he deadpanned, and Akashi merely laughed. Tetsuya had also noted the other did laugh a lot once he relaxed, an impish tendency of mischief permeating beyond his prim upbringing and self-control.

"Is that a bad thing? Everyone tends to want to control their lives, Kuroko. Life itself as a fight for survival, which is nothing more than a fight for control. A game that simply reflects this is by no means is more complicated than living itself."

And there was another part of Akashi people didn't get to see a lot; an intrinsic bitterness and cynicism coating his words and thoughts, making Tetsuya almost unable to remember that in front of him there was another boy his age. Akashi acted as if he bore the pain of the world at times, his knowledge intuitive and logical, coated with enough painful experience to seem he had tried everything and failed. Perhaps it something in that knowledge that made it not so hard for Tetsuya to ask the following request:

"Teach me," he asked, his eyes blazing with unexpected determination, making Akashi snap out of his thoughtful contemplation of the board to meet his eyes. Tetsuya didn't know for sure what the other saw in there, but he smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

* * *

The book came as a surprise, simply waiting for him next to his usual spot - which had slowly become their spot as Tetsuya spent every evening in Akashi's company, secluded from the world by the morose curtain of never-ending rain. But the atmosphere between them was anything but morose, a combination of pure amusement and competitive mischief.

Tetsuya had learnt pretty fast - and he hadn’t needed Akashi's brutal coaching in shogi, which had given him quite the insight on why Aomine had called the other a demon so many times - that Akashi was relishing in a challenge, pushing and prodding, thrilled with provocation, his need to win on par with the exhilaration of the game itself. What had surprised Tetsuya was his own willingness to participate in such games of wit, finding pleasure in meeting the other halfway, an enjoyment that came from an active conversation in good company.

"What is this?" he had asked seeing the book, which clearly belonged to Akashi if Tetsuya interpreted his self-satisfied smirk correctly, even as the other boy pretended not to have noticed the other's presence as of yet.

"Oh? This?" Akashi asked, finally looking up from his board. "It is a book Kuroko," and Tetsuya had felt the bitter taste of defeat too many times in just a few days in shogi to truly excuse Akashi's shit eating grin.

"Fabulously exact, Akashi-kun. One might even consider you worthy of a prize for this astute observation. I wanted to know why it is here," Tetsuya elaborated very unimpressed with the baiting.

"Are you meaning to tell me I wouldn’t deserve a prize without this observation? Kuroko, you wound me," Akashi exclaimed, bringing a hand over his chest in a dramatic gesture of mock hurt, completely disregarding the question. And this was surprising too, Akashi having a playful side, and almost endearing, if it weren't for the fact that presently Tetsuya felt tempted to hit the other. Thankfully, Akashi took pity on him, and decided to explain:

"It is for you, Kuroko. It is one of my favourites and you might enjoy it."

And perhaps Tetsuya felt himself warm all over at the attentive gesture no one had thought of doing for him before; perhaps he also saw the soft fondness in Akashi's gaze, and perhaps if he had had more courage he would have mentioned either of the tumultuous feelings raging in his chest at the unexpected caring gesture. As it was he simply thanked Akashi before sitting himself down and starting another round of shogi he was bound to lose, the following day a book simply lying next to the board, inconspicuously waiting for Akashi to pick it up.

* * *

"Why do you keep playing with me if you keep winning?" Tetsuya asked a week and something later.

Akashi had waited for him next to his classroom, and they had made menial conversation as they walked to their classroom to set the board up, debating everything from basketball to homework. The question wasn't unexpected; Tetsuya had had it on his mind for the longest while now, unable to comprehend why Akashi, who obviously was a very talented player, would spend time putting up with his fumbling of the game. Akashi simply raised an eyebrow at Tetsuya.

"Are you really asking me why a game that should be played by two people is more fun when played like this and not alone?" As expected of Akashi to make him feel slightly obtuse with just the most casual observation.

"I meant why someone as good as Akashi would play with someone who is clearly bad at it." Akashi's silences were always demanding, this one being no exception as he almost glared at Tetsuya.

"One day I will understand why you keep putting yourself down like this," he muttered, seemingly for himself.

"Perhaps because Akashi-kun is amazing and appears to be flawless. It is intimidating for us average humans," Tetsuya snapped back, the sarcastic comment followed by a roll of his eyes.

It wasn't a specific emotion that crossed on Akashi's face in that moment, something that Tetsuya knew he had no way of truly figuring out what it was. But it had been there, and even as Akashi slumped in the chair with a huff, Tetsuya was left to wonder just from how many facets the boy in front of him was made of, how many angles of pristine icy perfection mingled with unmentioned warmth were mashed together to construct the entirety that was Akashi.

"What a ridiculous notion. Honestly, Kuroko, I have no idea where you get the idea I might be perfect," he grumbled, making Tetsuya raise both his eyebrows in surprise.

"Just today you told Aomine-kun you're absolute at lunch when he denied eating your new regime made especially for him."

"Well... that is a different thing. Being absolute is not being infallible," Akashi stated softly, and it was one of Akashi's perplexing truths once more, a contradiction that didn't really make sense for anyone but him, a metaphor coated in half-truths unable to be truly deciphered. In less words than this, Tetsuya told Akashi just as much.

"Very well," he conceded. "For next time you choose the game we play. Be it something more familiar for you, if you think raising the challenge would make it more entertaining for me, though half of the fun comes out of watching Kuroko struggle to beat me." Tetsuya rolled his eyes.

"You’re a sadist," he accused, and Akashi merely shrugged unapologetically. Nevertheless, the next day they played chess. Tetsuya lost once more. His pride was less wounded as it had seemed he had put up some sort of fight back indeed.

* * *

"Aomine is getting restless, you know," Akashi mentioned one day casually as he flipped through the latest book Tetsuya had brought for him. He didn't answer, his eyes simply set on observing Akashi, from the slight scrunch of his nose as he read a more gruesome scene to the elegant way his fingers bent and moved to flip through the pages, his pinkie always pointed.

"Is that so?"

"Mhm," Akashi hummed. "It must be because he stopped playing in the evenings with you. It is not often someone as talented as Aomine comes along. It must be exceptionally hard for him to love something so much, and yet not find someone to match the intensity of his feelings," he mused, almost disinterested.

"Perhaps Akashi-kun should take responsibility." This actually made Akashi laugh, and Tetsuya also smiled softly, quite pleased he managed to make the other entertained with his dry humour.

"Oh, but then I also quite enjoy this," Akashi responded motioning between the two of them. "How could I apologise when I also enjoy spending the evenings with you." And even if Akashi was teasing, the words surprised Tetsuya to the extent of feeling a warm fluster spread over his cheeks uninvited, a foreign feeling of restlessness making him want to hide from the other’s gaze.

"I meant more how Akashi-kun was the one who suggested I try to exploit my lack of presence, and thus me trying to do exactly that," he countered embarrassed at how forward Akashi was, hoping to divert his attention. It worked, but perhaps not in the way Tetsuya would have wanted it. Akashi's smiles Tetsuya learnt were as numerous as the stars, a whole galaxy of complex emotions expressed through simple expressions. And if his smiles were too many to count, Akashi's emotions were like a nebula, infinite and complex, the start and the beginning, a turnover of intensity that seemed impossible to comprehend in its eternity. So, Tetsuya shouldn't have been really that surprised when Akashi's previous mirth caught on a sharp edge, something harsh beneath his conviction and words.

"And how are you going on with that?" Akashi asked slowly, almost calculating. The switch was so sudden, Tetsuya couldn't really understand what happened, but instead decided to play along.

"I have reached a point in which I am confident I have a very good idea about creating my own basketball style," he admitted softly, if not a bit cautiously. Akashi only hummed, the pages turning underneath his fingers languidly, as if there was something of interest he wished to find. Tetsuya was not fooled; he did not understand really what had happened to cause this, but he knew Akashi's sole attention was now on him, in a way he hadn't really wished for.

"Very well then, Kuroko'" he said with the same satisfaction one showed to someone that barely met the minimum requirements.

"You do know the basketball season is starting soon, right?" The question was a double-edged sword, a demand and a request, and Tetsuya couldn't shake the feeling that he had been entangled beyond his abilities in a silky web, caught off guard with no way to ever deceive Akashi's all-knowing tone. It was unnerving at least, and it left with an odd feeling of wrongness, a masquerade of their usual conversations taking over the present, twisting it until he no longer felt like he knew what was happening.

"Yes, I am aware," Tetsuya responded slowly, hesitant not knowing what else could make the situation worse.

Akashi only smiled as he placed the book down on the table, delicately, even if the book seemed frailer underneath his touch. As red met blue, Tetsuya felt a shiver run down his spine at the gaze looking back at it, an abyss staring back at him, emptiness full of command and missing emotion, a paradox that both frightened him, surprised him, and at the same time made him almost unwillingly to lean over the edge to see how deep the darkness went.

"Good. You will make it to the team until then, will you not?" Akashi asked sweetly, but this time there was no request in those eyes, simply a statement of truth, as if reality itself would bend to Akashi's will simply because he had said it so.

Compelling, vast and frightening. Tetsuya's breath seemed to stop in his throat, almost without realising nodding in agreement to the other before he even thought better of it. That day for the first time Akashi left early, an excuse about some previous engagement on his lips, believable yet improbable, leaving Tetsuya to look behind him, his gaze barely catching the raging fire underneath the cool embers of those eyes.

The rainy season slowly passed, the rain showers stopping in between enough to let the world feeling wet and dreary, vibrant shades of blooming nature slowly coming back to life, the trees slowly stretching out of their sleep to prepare for the upcoming scorching summer sun.

* * *

He didn't understand how everything could have went wrong so fast. Seijuurou was quite content with the start of his middle school life, the hectic Tokyo an interesting change of pace after the strict rigour of Kyoto. He slowly started making a place for himself, the weight of the expectations of his family name slowly being stretched and bent to his newfound freedom, the taste of independence both bitter and sweet, foreign and full of possibilities.

To be honest it was all his fault that he had expected it to last. The moment Masaomi had mentioned that playing basketball was okay with him, Seijuurou should have known that there was a catch, more so than the normal, especially when his father's forthrightly meetings suddenly came to a halt. Instead he had stupidly indulged in contentedness, relaxing as if someone like him was allowed to do that. His new blooming acquaintance - perhaps even friendship? - hadn't helped in this regard. So, the moment he had gotten the message that his father wished to see his progress in his sport of choice he felt like a cold bucket of water had been dropped upon his head, the blood in his veins chilling to the point it seemed like everything burned, his eyes unfeeling as his breaths had become ragged.

But it was fine. Everything was fine. His father - rightfully so - demanded only perfection from his heir, and Seijuurou knew he could very well deliver it. He only had to make sure everything in the first string ran smoothly. Easy, right?

Life had a way of twisting around Seijuurou at times, the fabric of Fate catching on every narrow crevice of jagged weakness, only to tangle until moving forward felt like a battle against forces that simply wished to pull him back. So of course, things weren't running as smoothly in the newly formed first string, between the clashing personalities of Aomine, Haizaki and Midorima, and Murasakibara's petulant indifference. Not that Seijuurou felt hopeless, but to say he wasn't worried would be an understatement, knowing that his father would look for the smallest reason to stop him from practicing the sport, under the pretence of taking care of his academics.

It was frustrating, and it was maddening, Seijuurou's mind reeling constantly with training regimes, diets and plans, his shogi board almost bound to his hand at this point. Even so, he couldn't stand Tanaka's - his butler's - nagging about his health or the maid’s comments about his lack of appetite as he dived head first into his work. He couldn't even think of other things most days anyway, as he calculated and thought of possibilities, his chest seizing as he realised each time just how many things could go wrong. It was at that time that he started spending more time at school, knowing that during the rainy season Midorima's father would demand his son to spend the evenings at their family hospital. Seijuurou thought it was perfect, his overtired and overused mind demanding solitude, and as much as he cared for Midorima, his nagging was the last thing he needed at the moment.

Kuroko’s presence like a phantom walking throughout empty classroom came as a surprise, his hollowed steps and meek looks surprisingly daring, and dare Seijuurou say it, almost comforting. At first, he had found a silent companionship in the other’s choice to stay after classes in school, something akin to being lost and adrift in their presence after classes in the empty building surrounded by life that seemed to not permeate through the rain raging outside in a tempest. His company was unexpected but not unwelcome, something completely unique in the boy sitting across from him clearly haunted by his own thoughts and actions.

Then talking to Kuroko became an oddly enchanting experience - a feeling Seijuurou wasn’t usually confronted with of being challenged in all aspects sparkling in the other’s eyes in intrigue and determination, intelligence and wit along with a similar preference for quiet reminiscing making Seijuurou slowly look forward for the other’s boy appearance. Not that he would admit it in any way, but one of the reasons he didn’t go at home – besides having to deal with displaced worry – being the way his thoughts seemed to roll around and reflect back from the walls of the house, shards of cutting glass of loneliness, a certain reminder of what his failure could bring.

Kuroko Tetsuya was an amazing company, which suit Seijuurou just well in ways Midorima couldn’t, not that he ever wanted to sit alone in pensive silence with the green haired boy. And Kuroko Tetsuya was obviously in his own way just a shade of broken, his doubt and something akin to shame clinging to his skin in marring colours of ashy undertones, poisonous lead that hunched his shoulders as if to make himself disappear.

It surprised Seijuurou, this face of pondering uncertainty of the other boy that he had never presumed to be there during their lunches together, his family situation making him clench his teeth with barely contained harsh words – because he deserved better damn it, and he knew that better than most people – not that he was allowed to say anything like that.

Kuroko Tetsuya was surprising, complex in his simplicity, hidden facets underneath misty incongruity, yet paradoxically a masterpiece, uniqueness and qualities like flashes of the sun at dawn on a misty day.

And even this in the end was not enough, a precarious unexpected safe haven, that slowly started to crumble away underneath Seijuurou’s raising worries, his fear – the world tasting like dust on his mouth with the unwillingness to admit it – slowly hacking pieces of himself until he felt the grains of his composure slowly drifting apart as keeping everything together became a painful task.

His life felt like jagged pieces barely held together underneath the entirety that made his mask of his self. And he still did everything right, his smile steady in place, his mind just as analytical as was expected of him, his efforts beyond mediocre. And Seijuurou could not sleep at night underneath the caving in his chest at feeling that it was still not enough, at trying to do more. And while people he did not know kept complimenting him, coming to him to ask for one thing or another, Seijuurou felt the emptiness in his stomach as he couldn’t be bothered to stomach a meal in the morning by simply being too lost in his own thoughts.

Not that everything was a spiral going downwards, with no way for Seijuurou to see the bottom. It was more like a storm watched from inside-out, the destruction so close and wearing the battered walls slowly, even if he remained untouched by it, the coldness sometimes seeping between the cracks to make him shiver. In other words, Seijuurou even as he was in the midst of it, couldn’t feel as if everything was that bad, his fraying calmness slowly disappearing as he stubbornly held onto it with cold, hard logic. Considering Midorima’s sometimes thoughtful looks it wasn’t really working, the struggle, the thinking, the planning, everything tiring him, a weariness in deep in his bones adding to the cocktail of emotions he did not want to feel.

His thoughts were a compliant storm most days and nights, his fears just barely restrained to nothingness as they should be, the worries and possibilities whirling through his mind at all hours.

_What if I won’t be good enough,_ he sometimes wondered as his eyes were lost tracing the skyline of Tokyo from the highest floor of his apartment building, as the glass towers shot like spires towards the sky, a victory of mankind against the crimson summer sunsets.

_You are. You will be._ But even that small reassurance sounded lifeless, unnervingly unsure of itself, even as he confidently heard again and again through the duality of his being the trust he held in his abilities. It was almost mocking, a perplexity the confidence and arrogance barely a touch away crumbling to pitiful self-loathing, shyness and distrust, two sides of the same coin that made him push forward harder, as only one of these was allowed to be.

_I am Akashi Seijuurou. I will not lose._ And the words were soothing, the momentary the trust in his abilities a breath of fresh air in the sea of restlessness. But it was never enough to keep him afloat, the worries coming back again, worse than before, a tempest dragging him down in the dark pits of wondering and planning and thinking, until the line between thoughts turned blurry and Seijuurou was left only at the mercy of his feelings.

It was needless to say between the broken fractions of his life, Seijuurou was a ticking bomb, the edges of his control trembling against the tumult in his soul, the force of his struggle leaving him to reel and succumb to the pains of his life, a game of imitation at normalcy. Perhaps it shouldn’t have come as a surprise what happened next.

The day had been the opposite of ordinary, and it was all due Seijuurou’s monumental stupidity.

It had started ordinary enough, which was not unusual. All of Seijuurou’s were supposed to be ordinary after all. But for some reason his mind seemed distracted, an unwilling band of thoughts stretching away inattentively, and the more he tried to force himself to pay attention Seijuurou felt more and more confined, a suffocation of his soul that seemed to whirl in a wild need to be expressed, a barely contained weakness of worry that seemed to not leave him, felt like harsh pins and needles running through his blood.

And because of that everything seemed _more_.

The teachers seemed harsher, more disappointed in him with every look thrown his way in a pathetic condescending frown. It did not help that his answers felt nothing more than idiotic, a fumbling of words that left an acidic, dry taste on his tongue.

His decisions seemed foolish. His conversations dumber and more obnoxious than anything, until even the sound of his own voice grated on his nerves like an ear splintering scratch of annoyance, and he seemed unable to find the right balance between saying too much and saying nothing at all.

Practice wasn't much better, and when one of his advices about a formation made Nijimura raise a questioning brow he felt a sickening lurch in his chest with a humiliating certainty of unbecoming wrongness, as his mind locked itself over on the mistake blowing it out of proportions until nothing could be heard besides the ranging, mocking song of his own stupidity, a duet with the sickening acidic lurch in his stomach. And as his face managed to automatically pull a charming smile to apologise for his oversight, his mind could only clamp on the cacophony of the song made through the heavy repetition of one word.

_Useless, useless, useless._

It came as no surprise that by the end of the day Seijuurou felt drained, as if the colours of his being were bleeding out through the broken seams of his being. It felt like a struggle to breathe, the existence, the foolishness of his pressing all around like a mocking push of taunting malice. And as Seijuurou bid goodbye and turned away from Midorima’s worried gaze, he felt like the pieces of his soul were crumbling and the broken glass of his being barely contained underneath his skin cut with merciless, edged shards everywhere.

He didn't know how he made it away from _everything_ \- everyone that just seem to follow him with a decided purpose. And while usually Seijuurou thought he could pride himself in his accomplishments and especially his thoughts, now, barely leaning on the edge of a precipice, the whole thing was too much. So, like a hurt animal he ran away and hid away in the classroom that became the unwanted refuge of timeless nothingness in the storm that was his life. And even as his mind added further harsher thoughts of shame and guilt at how painfully weak, pathetic and simply unfit Seijuurou was, his breathing simply felt like it did not contain enough air, the heavy breaths seemingly not filling his lungs as he struggled to contain everything from the panic to the thoughts and _control_ slipping through his fingers like the furtive sand in an hourglass. And in the mess that was his mind, he registered the outside world, a thing detached from the fight of his soul, in which broken pieces of sermons and orders he had heard all life fought against pitiful thoughts of self-loathing, and against the him that tried to contain it all.

_It was too much._

Resting his hands on the desk in front of him - and a part of Seijuurou wondered how he had even gotten this far - his erratic breaths seemed to choke him, but still not holding a candle to the pain that just kept twisting and twisting in a painful clutch against his chest, his heart giving a rattled tempo of a fight against the claw squeezing it to bleed dry. And as the time turned in a continuous eternity in which nothing existed but the mindless, numb struggle of his thoughts against the confines of the body - as one seemed willing to destroy the other - Seijuurou let out a pitiful sound that he wasn’t sure was even loud enough to be heard, the pulse and air wheezing in his ears drowning away the reality, the sounds, until nothing remained.

He wanted it to stop, but it did not stop, and the spiral of his thoughts tightened slowly, until nothing remained. Left with nothing left to do, the little part of Seijuurou that still held on raised his fist and powerfully slammed it into the table he leaned on, the pain shooting like an electric shock muffled throughout murky waters, enough to give him something to hold onto, just a tiny anchor in the raging storm. And before he knew it, he had already decided on it, and painfully, almost punishingly he did again, and again, as if the pain itself could erode away the thoughts, could hold the cataclysm at bay, could bring sense in the nonsense raging in his mind far crueller than anything he had ever experienced.

_Again._

_Stupid._

_And again._

_Useless._

_Again._

_Make it stop._

_Again._

_Unworthy._

And then, from afar, a piece of reality caved in to the small monochromatic bubble of nothingness, almost just as muted as the throbbing in his hand that pulsated vindictively with what he deserved. Just enough of it to make some sense snap into it all, centred around the hue of a summer sky tinged with worry lurking at the margins like the grey clouds of drizzle.

“Akashi-kun,” Kuroko asked, his voice small and halting, and Akashi barely made enough eye contact to realise that even as his eyes were wide and slightly frightened, there was also a hard steel of determination underlying that fragile blue. Just one moment of clarity, before Seijuurou wretched his hand free, his chest still unable to breathe, his senses muted by the panic that was just as alive as the pulsating ache in his fingers.

Turning his head away, his bangs hiding the look in his eyes Seijuurou tried to gather any pieces of composure in his body as he cradled to his chest the arm Kuroko had caught in his own fist to stop him from getting what he truly deserved.  

“Tetsuya,” he murmured, “perhaps now it is not the best of time,” he tried for conversationally, even as he knew he must had been obvious in the way he was struggling not to hyperventilate, even as his mind cursed him for having forgotten another thing. Another failure. And the greatest of it all, because now another person _knew_.

Kuroko did not answer at all, instead looking at Seijuurou with the same steely expression, a calm mask that made Seijuurou both envious and proud, a conflicted feeling of greed alongside appreciation. In the end, the other boy did not say anything, and Seijuurou felt like the world would bleed through the margins until nothing would remain in it anymore, spots marring his vision from the proper lack of oxygen.

“Akashi-kun,” Kuroko decided to speak in the end even as Seijuurou was starting to lose himself again, “you need to sit down,” the smaller boy ordered. And Seijuurou felt his lip curl in a barely contained snarl, and instinctive reaction of rejection, even as he let himself be guided to the chair, the smaller hands painfully gentle barely registering through the phase.

Kuroko simply didn’t say much, but simply kneeled in front of Seijuurou, and even as he looked away, Kuroko stubbornly found his eyes. Rebelliously, Seijuurou closed them, wanting to be left alone to suffer the humiliation by himself, his body shaking with a multitude of feelings, not the least anger. But Kuroko simply persisted, and Seijuurou’s eyes snapped open when he felt a pair of hands curl around his to the point of it almost being painful.

“I am going to talk slowly, Akashi-kun, and I need to know you are listening to me, okay?” Kuroko asked, and Seijuurou barely contained himself from saying something that would have made Aomine blush in shame. Instead at Kuroko’s insistence he nodded simply, showing he was able to hear the other, even if it was as if looking through a glass wall from the outside in, the sounds muffled like underwater.

“I want you to listen to me, Akashi-kun,” Kuroko continued. “I am going to ask you to breath slowly, following my count. Do you think you can do that?”

Akashi would have laughed if he were able to. Did he think he could do that? He barely was able to concentrate on listening to Kuroko. Instead he let out a puff of annoyed air, his mouth burning at the other’s blatant idiocy.

“As… if… I… can,” he ground out, but Kuroko simply raised one eyebrow and shook his head.

“You can,” he assured, and Seijuurou wanted to mock the blatant trust in the other’s voice and eyes. “You can,” Kuroko repeated, before taking one of Seijuurou’s hands and resting it against his neck. “Just like this.” And slowly Kuroko took in a deep breath that he held in for a few seconds before letting it out slowly, the fragile throat underneath his fingers expanding and distending with the movement, the physical action as real as the words Kuroko kept speaking, stupid reassurances and encouragements repeated in the same calm soothing tone of voice he kept using since he had first spoken to Seijuurou. And Seijuurou cursed in his mind, but the tempest slowly started to fade away, Kuroko’s voice a guiding lighthouse, his breaths a real thing just underneath Seijuurou’s fingers. And he didn’t know when or how it happened, but from being held onto, Seijuurou started clinging onto Kuroko, his fingers digging in the other boy, trying to absorb the solid feeling and calm through sheer force, his breaths starting to imitate almost painfully the pattern set by Kuroko.

And just like that the precipice was crossed, and somehow the free fall in the abyss seemed to end, the painful breaths started to fill his lungs as the world slowly bled into a painful clarity that left Seijuurou reeling, unable to realise if he was relieved or terrified.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but it must have been a long while when he finally realised his fingers were digging in Kuroko’s throat with a vicious desperation, the hand left in his lap having entwined itself with the other’s boy. With a small gasp, Seijuurou retracted his hand away, and finally managed to look away from Kuroko’s crystalline gaze.

“Are you better now?” Kuroko asked softly, and Seijuurou almost groaned with a feeling of utter embarrassment as he wiped away a soft trickle of saliva from the corner of his mouth. Thankfully and mercifully Kuroko moved his hands away, and did not comment on any of what happened, instead moving to search in the bag now Seijuurou saw he had thrown to the side for a water bottle which he offered with a silent, small smile. Seijuurou took it gratefully, even as his chest burned in a combination of embarrassment and gratitude, and to his surprise he emptied the whole thing in one long gulp.

Kuroko still didn’t say anything even as he took the bottle and got up to throw it away, making Seijuurou wince at the very loud pop his knees made as he did so, which made him wonder how long they had actually been there.

“How long?” Seijuurou asked as Kuroko turned around from the trashcan from across the classroom, their eyes meeting once more. Seijuurou was surprised to hear just how raspy his voice sounded, the reminder making him shamefully cast his gaze aside. Kuroko didn’t comment on that either before fetching his phone from the bag and checking the time.

“Almost half an hour now,” he said casually, as if that knowledge didn’t shake Seijuurou even more than everything else. The whole thing had lasted half an hour? Seijuurou barely felt as if five minutes had passed at best, and it made dread and an unfamiliar fear fall down his spine in a chilling wave of uncertainty.

“Right,” he rasped out awkwardly not knowing what to say to that or to Kuroko about the whole situation.

Silence descended between them, an oppressive presence that made Seijuurou uncomfortably aware of everything that had passed between them, even as complete and utter exhaustion hanged around the edges of his awareness, the weights of it dragging him down in their depths. And Seijuurou was suddenly tired, a deep bone tiredness of the being, unable to find it in himself to care or struggle anymore, simply wishing for peace or nothingness. Perhaps it was because the next thing made everything worse in the end.

“Akashi-kun,” Kuroko started, and now that Seijuurou was able to think he could see the tight line of his shoulders and the worry in those blue eyes as well as something akin to relief in the movements of the other boy. And because he was aware enough he knew the other wanted to _talk_ , which was arguably the last thing Seijuurou wanted to do right then.

And cowardly so, that’s what he did not.

Seijuurou didn’t stay to listen to what Kuroko wanted to continue with, suddenly rising to his feet in a fast move, his eyes already aiming to find his bag, so he could simply leave.

“Kuroko, as much as I appreciate your help, I need to offer my deepest apologies for seeing me in such a position,” he started courtly ignoring the seeping sensation of dizziness as he moved as swiftly as he could on his unsteady legs to get his bag from the place he presumably dropped when having entered the classroom.

“Akashi-kun,” Kuroko started once more, moving to help him when Seijuurou faltered in one of his steps, but he simply ignored the other boy, the scorching feel of shame burning deeper in his chest as he realised how much more weakness he was displaying and simply putting every ounce of strength left in his body into keeping his composure. Even so, it was a fractured thing, barely held in place, as tiredness swept over him in soothingly merciless waves.

“It was simply too much of a bother for you,” Seijuurou continue uninterrupted, even as he felt the start of a glare on the back of his head as he took his bag and put it on his shoulder. “And I am once more, sorry you had to see such an unnatural expression of emotion from me...” But whatever else his frantic mind tried to put in place as a good cop-out was stopped as he felt Kuroko’s hand gripping his elbow and pulling enough to make Seijuurou turn around to look into a burning gaze of unexpected anger.

“If Akashi-kun thinks that I am simply clueless or an idiot he should think twice,” Kuroko said his fingers tightening just the tiniest bit. “I do not know why Akashi-kun had a panic attack, but those things don’t just simply happen…”

At the words ‘panic attack’, Seijuurou flinched, before feeling his own face tightening in a mask of anger.

“I do not see how that matters. I did _not_ have a panic attack,” he gritted stubbornly.

“Yes, you did. And it was a serious one, and you should talk about it,” Kuroko said serenely, even as his eyes steadily held Seijuurou’s red ones with a fiery determination that at the moment was simply just too much.

“It is simply not your goddamn business!” The words cut deeper than a shout, even if Seijuurou said them in a cold detached voice. Still, the message behind it was clear enough to make Kuroko flinch, his hand dropping away from his arm as if burned, his eyes looking with just the tiniest bit of shock and hurt at Seijuurou. He did not care to see that; he could not deal with that now, he just wanted to be left alone, so Seijuurou simply turned around to leave when Kuroko spoke once more.

“It is because you are my friend,” Kuroko said softly, and if they weren’t in an empty classroom with only the orange hues of the sunset to witness the conversation Seijuurou doubted he would have heard the words. “And perhaps foolishly so, I thought Akashi-kun was also my friend. So, when I see a friend suffering like that, I make it my business.” Kuroko was obviously hesitant, but still his voice was steady, and the soft-spoken words held all the conviction and truth behind them in a way that was simply painful for Seijuurou.

“It is simply not a matter to concern with, Kuroko. It does not matter…”

“It does matter to me! We have spent the better part of the school year in each other’s company, and perhaps I would not be the right person to talk to, but you need to talk to someone.”

Seijuurou wanted to dismiss the words. He wanted to dismiss them all in a fit of anger born out of humiliation but the worry in Kuroko’s voice was genuine it scratched an ache so deep that Seijuurou felt his breath stutter for a second. It was unfair. The whole day was unfair, and he was not one to say this often being as blessed as he was, but even his life was unfair. And it was then that Seijuurou learned one more important thing.

Kuroko Tetsuya was the most unfair of them all.

And he lived up to that statement as he approached Seijuurou once more, his hand tugging almost shyly on the sleeve of his uniform in the form of a request not a command. As Seijuurou turned, he could not meet his blue eyes, he could not say anything but look at the pale hand gripping his coat, the same hand that had held his for the better half of an hour with gentleness.

_The smooth feel of skin underneath your fingers; the quiet whisper of his breath underneath your grip._

He forced himself not to think of any of that, but instead to meet Kuroko’s kind eyes, his soulful blue gaze making Seijuurou feel something, uncomfortable and tight at the same time.

“Promise me?” Kuroko asked, and Seijuurou cocked his head not understanding.

“Promise me you’ll talk with someone. Anyone. Akashi-kun… just do this.” And it was clear the other boy swallowed many other words, a lot of unsaid thoughts reflected opaquely back at him behind the curtain of his blue lashes, the same kind of thoughts Seijuurou had wanted to untangle before because they were surprising and unique. Now he simply wanted to leave and curl in bed and pretend the vicious thoughts were kept at bay.

(They were not.)

He had half a mind to wretch his hand free and leave, but there was something in Kuroko’s gaze, something familiar, and Seijuurou was so tired to think, to analyse to plan and just exist that he simply nodded, cowardly so, in a promise he did not intend to keep. There was nothing to talk about. Everything was as it had always been, and he was _fine_. Pathetic, perhaps, but still fine. He had just to get a better control on things.

“I promise,” he whispered, the lie tasting like ash and exhaustion on his tongue, like antiseptic and smoke, like dark memories and even more sombre thoughts.

He did not look behind as he left the classroom, all but running away as fast as he could on his shaky legs, Kuroko’s gaze burning in his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I wanted to share a few notes on this chapter.  
> First of all about the Kansai-ben, it is not a thing I made up, though it was exaggerated just the tinniest bit in this fic to drive the point home. If you are more interested in the subject I am sure there are links on youtube with people presenting the difference so you can hear it. If you watch a lot of subbed animes, you might actually have heard it a few times (for example in Ao no Exorcist, especially in the latest season). To sum it up, Kansai-ben is slightly different in the way of traditional Japanesed we are used to, by being 1) faster with a lot of shortening and by 2) using regionalisms (words found only in that specific region). The biggest difference is intonation, which in case you get to hear would be a focus on the middle and first syllables unlike most words in Japanese. This is simply from my own knowledge of Japanese (which is not perfect) and from what I remember from when I had been in the region. Of course, to represent pronunciation in text is tricky, thus my exaggeration. I do not want to hear anyone saying Akashi would speak with the anime equivalent of a southern accent. Please don't.
> 
> Second of all, I want to make an observation about Akashi as a character. Already as a story this obviously breaks the pattern of most fanon imaginings of Akashi. Whether you completely agree with me or disagree, I think everyone can at least accept the fact that Akashi's break down in third year was not something sudden, but something that had been building over a long period of time, and that I think he had tried to keep under wraps. As anyone knows, dealing with anxiety that is induced through expectations, self-esteem, grief and the death of a parent are serious conditions, Akashi had displayed even in canon. I am slowly trying to touch on these subjects as mindfully as I can, but they are based on my own experiences and interpretation. I do not plan to change any of the events in the series, but I am not going to skirt around Akashi's issues, or how fragile as a character he really is (a fact that was made clear even in the series). For all his strength, Akashi is quite a problematic character, and to go ahead with the story I will have to get into other scenes like this one. It will not be the sole focus of this fic by far, but I just had thought to explain myself. Besides this, please feel free to comment your own ideas and interpretations of Akashi, as well as your thoughts for this chapter. 
> 
> Also feel free to contact me at deyanirasan.tumblr.com, or on my writing blog if you feel so inclined. I am always up to debate and talk about KnB. Look forward in the next chapters for a branching of outside POVs, as we get into the mind of other characters too, so I hope you'll enjoy that. Initially I had planned to maybe do a side story with many different POVs of GoM on how they saw/thought of akkr, but where is the fun in that? I hope you enjoyed!


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